B1: Target is your friend

FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, WHEN IS SCHOOL GOING TO START? I don't deal well with all of this free time on my hands. I have got to learn to be more proactive. Otherwise, my school loans will never ever end. And how am I going to write my first best-seller without a little thing called self-motivation? I wish there were a virtual editor for hire. Like a service that would call you every two hours until you started submitting material through email. Then the calls would be vaguely encouraging, just enough to keep you going, keep your ass in the chair and your fingers moving. It would have to be a recorded voice however, because a real person might find my inevitable outbursts of frustration and excitement a bit abrasive. I mean, some people just don't respond well to my expletives, especially when they are trying to encourage me. However, "motherfucking shit fart fuck asshole donkey loving cotton candy cunt" can be a rather cathartic mantra, so I couldn't deny myself its healing qualities. I might propose this idea to Mom. She has a knack for becoming temporarily deaf to my squealings and tuning it at just the right moment to provide a few words of encouragement. When I recieve my first fat royalties check, I will make sure she is sufficiently compensated for her patience and understanding.
On another note, making cafe au laits is almost as fun as drinking them. That is, when one has little more to do that pet the dog and make sure the couch doesn't fly away.