I’m floating in my bathtub, staring at the ceiling, believing I have put out 100 words or more. Sadly, I do not believe that to me the case. Where is my mind? Where are my words?

My words appear to have been swallowed whole taking up space in my throat. Or perhaps the cat has my tongue. Normally, no cat has my tongue. I’m too transparent. Too explosive. I’m too quick to want validation of when I’m correct. However, such validation can be a moit point as I know I’m rifht uet the enormity is lifted off of one’s shoulders when you receive validation. And, we’re not talking about parking validation.

I have words. Plenty of them. I just have to lasso them up and put a pretty pink bow on them.