Destination: Procrastination

If it weren't for the last minute, I wouldn't get anything done. And I don't know about yours, but my clock doesn't say 4:59 yet. So I think I'll list a few more things that I will not be announcing next week. (I know, I know, you've all been losing sleep. Don't worry, it's only a few days away now.)

I'm still not pregnant. You can be sure of this because I would have flung myself out of a window already if were pregnant. Just kidding, just kidding. Kind of. But seriously, I'm a little afraid of/confused by babies. That "fever" thing hasn't hit me yet. Plus, I can't even imagine having to discuss menstruation or nocturnal emissions with a pimply-faced kid who hates my guts. Yeah, so cross pregnancy off the list.

I'm not a man. Nor am I considering becoming one. Sure, I think it would be sweet to toss the tampons  for good. Yes, it would be amazing to show up for work braless, unshowered and without makeup every day, instead of only a couple times a week. (I know, ew. Shut up.) And of course I would probably be a totally hot dude. And I would get a little taste of the sweet life, making that extra 25 percent just for having junk. But. Because I prefer men, I'd rather not be one. Also, what if the surgery or the hormone therapy got all botched, and I ended up more like a prepubescent boy with patchy stubble and zits and a cracking voice? Nope, I'll stick to being a woman, unfairness and all.

I'm not going to be on American Idol. Even though I could totally kick ass. (Although I might be too old. Ageists.) Steven Tyler and J. Lo? Really? Those two in one uttering just give me the heebie-jeebies.

I'm not going to run off and live in France. Yet. Une fille peut rêver.

I'm not writing a novel. I don't have any good ideas. I can make funny lists about my silly life all day long, but I could never write 400 pages about one thing. Don't get me wrong, I would love to write a book someday. I've tried to hang out and get the creative juices flowing out of my pencil into my notebook, but it always turns into Target shopping list. And sure, I look cool tapping away on my MacBook, but I'm just finding funny Jezebel stories to post on Facebook. Maybe someday, but for now, I save all my ideas for this crappy blog. You're welcome.

I'm not running a marathon. I'll leave that to everyone else on the planet.