have. have not.

Due to a virulent strain of writer’s block, I haven’t been writing. I’m long overdue for a post and I tried – I really did – but all the words went ass over teacup and refused to line themselves up, single file, in a sentence. So, instead of publishing gobblygook as imagined by drunk toddlers, I thought I would give you a partial list of the other things I haven’t been doing while I haven’t been writing:

I haven’t been hourly checking the progress on the cherry tree outside my living room window nor have I been crouching in the vegetable garden watching the broccoli grow.

I haven’t been writing my Emmy acceptance speech.

I haven’t been making round-the-clock BLT’s.

I haven’t been obsessing about Kate Middleton’s wedding dress and randomly bursting into tears over Princess Diana’s death.

I haven’t mentally purchased a NYC apartment or an 18th century farmhouse (and horses) in the Hudson Valley.

I haven’t thumbed through catalogs like a bored socialite mentally purchasing items for my mentally purchased homes.

I haven’t planned every detail of a party I am having 7 weeks from now.

I haven’t been fancying myself a “painter.”

I haven’t been color coordinating my spices.

I haven’t been admiring the spring line at The Pleasure Chest.

I haven’t been practicing the guitar outside in an effort to scare away the marauding gang of birds who are trying to turn my garden into their clubhouse.

I haven’t been buying cheese-making supplies because of a captivating do-it-yourself youtube video.

I haven’t been holding old photos of myself up to my face for comparison nor have I talked to a nurse about Botox.

I haven’t taken the last box of Christmas ornaments to the garage.

I haven’t been bringing in fresh greens for the two snails Dash found outside and brought inside to live as his pets.

I haven’t been reading every horoscope I can find until I get to one that says something I want to hear.

I haven’t given myself an at-home pedicure.

I haven’t been watching Cheers re-runs with follow up googling of why Shelley Long left the show.

I haven't been promising my agent a new draft of the pilot.

I haven’t eaten my weight in Gummi bears.

I haven’t been experimenting with baking.

And, contrary to what you may have heard, I haven't been dancing in my house like some ridiculous character out of a romantic comedy, singing P!nk songs at top volume and polishing my floors.

How was your weekend?