Sometimes, I get odd little thoughts in my head, such as, “I wonder what the British school system teaches their students in regards to the American Revolution.”

I, in my less serious moments, think they say. “Eh. The territory was full of savages…and Indians…too. We LET them earn their freedom.”

Or:

“G. Washington bribed us.”

Or: “We were told by a time traveler that the American chaps would help us out in the future AND be a pain in Frenchies’ hineys…”

I sure as hell wouldn’t like the rest of the world to know that I got my butt handed to me by a bunch of rag-tag soldiers led by some depressed guy that was known for his extreme moodiness.

(No offense to any Brits that might read this. Brits are actually pretty awesome.)

My creative force has just gone out the window this week; sapped. I guess I’ll call my “disease” blogging malaise–I didn’t have any desire for blogging at all. Actually, scratch that. I lacked desire to do almost everything.

I didn’t want to go to work. I just wanted to hide under my covers and try to sleep. I wanted to blot out the world and cocoon myself in warm safety.

But NOOO. I get up. Go to work. Come home. Eat. Go (or try) to sleep.

I feel, on occasion, it takes a lot of courage to make it through one day.