Archaeospawn

You ever have one of those posts/emails/novels in your head that you just keep tweaking and so never get around to writing down?  Or have days where you are full of brilliant wordage and then you blerg all over other people's blogs and FB and write emails to other random people and use up all your brilliance instead of working on the ONE THING YOU MUST REALLY WRITE?

Yeah, this is that post.

Oh the showers I have spent working on this post.  Shall it be serious?  A discussion of decisions I have made in my life after careful reasoned logical thought... and then chucked out the window because I decided to... well, I don't know what the hell caused me to change my mind.  Could be the hormones.

In fact, I think that's what I want tattooed across my belly, in Hindi ('cause it looks cool and I have my shallow moments), "I blame it on the hormones."

Or should I be defensive - all right you lot, this is me and who I am and what I decided to do and so BACK OFF!  I'M HAPPY DAMNIT!  SEE?  HAPPY!!

Did I mention the hormones?  Totally to blame here.

Or should I go for funny?  Funny thing happened about three months ago.  And if you don't think sex is funny, well, you are reading the wrong damn blog, bub.

But while I slaved away in the endless file cabinet that passes for my mind, other things were going on that I wanted to blog about.  Like today, today could be all about the stupid F-16 that keeps buzzing my house.  Where the hell do you think I am, jerkoff?  Israel?

Seriously, if I *was* in Israel, I'd be turning on the news right now to find out if Lebanon has been invaded again.  What the hell is this?  Germany, is that you?  What do you want, we already send all of our organic produce to you, leaving only the questionable meat products to be sold at Netto.  Poland?  I swear to god we sent the plumbers back.

It's probably the entire Danish Air Force circling the country.  (You know, one F-16, repeat fly-overs every 5 minutes because it's a small country?  I made a FUNNY!  LAUGH DAMNIT!)

Hormones, remember?

I could have written this blog post last week and spent this week writing about cognitive bias (ah hah! that's the term I was looking for all week, thank GOD someone finally wrote a post about it so I can stop rocking back and forth in my chair trying to remember the group psychology stuff I had to force into my head a few years back) or even Random Danish Class Stories.

Things like: Did you know there are still people on the planet who do not know about Disney?  I find this hard to believe, since the people in question have children and half of Danish children's TV is American based, ie Disney up the whazoo.  And that it's really hard to explain the Industrial Revolution in baby-Danish.  And that when teaching Danish to asylum seekers from Burma, trying to amaze them with stories about how back in the old days Danes used to have 5-10 children and live in 20 square meter apartments and wasn't that just CRAZY?  Yeah, not going to go as you thought.
Teacher: Five to ten children!  Back then they didn't have birth control.  Now one or two is normal.  Can you imagine, 5 to 10!  How many siblings do you have?
C (from Burma): Eight.
AG: LOL!

But I can't write those posts, not until I get this one done.  See, I set these goals for myself, so that I will accomplish what I need to do before I do what I want to do.

This seems to result in a lot of procrastinating and unwritten blog posts.

I may need to rethink my strategy.

After all is said and done, none of the posts that I was intending on writing have been written and this post was not brilliantly thought out while in the shower.  Or over a peanut butter and nutella sandwich with a side of curried rice pilaf.  Instead it's made up as I go along.

Kinda like my life, really.

And all I really wanted to tell you was that the Archaeogoddess and the Danish Boy are having an Archaeospawn in about 6 months and that this blog might get a bit disgusting with "weird shit my body does to me" and "it can't be any worse, I'm already pregnant" posts.

So mix a cocktail and raise it on high on my behalf... because someone ought to be drunk during my pregnancy, and alas it can't be me.