Wakey, wakey

I'm a full disclosure kind of guy.

I say things I probably shouldn't say.
I wear my true feelings like an overly-worn fleece.
And I don't lie very well.

All of which explain why I did not ascend very high on the corporate ladder.

In that spirit, I'm going tell you what I did last week. Something I hadn't done since faking my way through Freshmen English course in college.

I waked and baked.

My wife was at work.
My daughter was at school.
My plate was clean.
And I wanted to get going on the short stories I've been writing.

So, after my morning shower and some considerable thought, I ventured out to the garage, found my little one hit bowl, and fired up a tiny bit of medical marijuana that had been "prescribed" to me to "manage" the chronic pain from Plantar Fasciitis. Then I slipped on my Bose QC-15 noise canceling headphones and opened up a new Word document.

For the next two and a half hours I clicked and clacked away at the keyboard in a way I hadn't done in all of my 44 years. I rarely stopped for Facebook interruptions or to answer any emails and just kept plowing through the story.

In all, I knocked out 1600-1700 words, many of them misspelled.

The next day, I read what I had written in my self-induced haze. I don't want to sound immodest, but it wasn't bad.

The prose was more colorful.
The structure, a little less structured.
But, and this is the important part, the funny was even funnier.

You might not know it from the 1200+ entries in this blog, and particularly not from this one, but I hold myself to a certain standard. And the goods produced by last week's Wake 'N Bake met those standards. And scarily, exceeded them.

Does this mean I'm going to go full Reefer and open up a revolving credit line at my local dispensary, cleverly called Total Health Care?

No, it does not.

It only means…oh shit I had a really snappy ending…now I can't remember…Look at the time, it's 4:19….I'm outtahere.