15 Minutes

          Okay, here I go. I have only fifteen minutes to write this.

Fifteen minutes to tell you all that I'm conducting an experiment. I'm going to blog everyday. Yes, everyday. Why? Well, because a writer gots to write, right?  Why fifteen minutes. Well, that's the time I have right now. The oven's on, a smoke's in my mouth, and my wife gets off work at four. It's 3:30. I still have cut up the potatoes, cut up some brats, add some garlic salt and Cajun seasoning, and stick it in the oven. Then get into he car and pick up the wife from Hardee's.  Oh, by the way my wife's name is Melissa.

Okay, it's 3:37.  Eight minutes left. Shit.

Ah, my mind's going blank.

The oven just beeped. It's preheated to 350.

Okay, now what?  My mind is still blank. Don't you hate it when that happens. I do. Damn, damn, damn.

My feet are cold. I got 6 minutes to finish this. No time to put socks on. No time to find a blanket. For if I took time to do that then my minutes would be up. Um, so I'll just let them chill. One must make sacrifices. Cold feet are okay.

3:41. Um,... 3:42. Correcting typos takes up time. In fact, if I could type better I'd be able to write more. Spending too much time deleting and retyping. Oh, well. I guess the more I write the better my typing skills might become. I say might because I've never been a good typist.

3:45. Times up.

Cheers.