I sit at my desk on a hot August day,
wondering whether to write or to play
Mystery Manor or 100 Floors,
or get on my bike and enjoy the outdoors.
The beach–it is beckoning, three blocks away,
my story revisions can wait a whole day.
I put on my suit and slather the lotion,
I grab up my chair and head to the ocean.
I sigh in content as I sit on the sand,
a best selling mystery in one of my hands.
A sea gull does fly overhead and then swoops,
and decides it is time to take a good poop.
It splatters my arm and the pages are struck;
I don’t need this type of so-called good luck.
I pack up my things and head off of the beach,
and stumble and fall and let out a loud screech.
I arise from the sand looking quite like
chicken that’s breaded (to observers’ delight).
On returning back home, I look at the date–
my work was due yesterday; now it’s too late.
–Anne Skalitza, 2013
*The above is fictitious. Any resemblance to my everyday life would most definitely include chocolate. And I always meet deadlines. Yes, yes I do. 🙂