Cake. I like it, you like it, get your own.

This is me hiking in search of cake. Just kidding. This is me, hiking in search of cake and lovely things that are blue and floaty and fairy like. I read an article yesterday about adult ADD diagnoses and every person who was diagnosed magically became capable and overcame their diagnosis once they figured out what the hell was wrong with them. All of their lives. My first reaction was "where is that piece of cake that my friend gave me" and then "maybe if someone in a tweed suit and bow tie diagnoses me with ADHD I too can lead a stress-free and clear life." After that came the usual flood of self-doubt about writing and apprehension over homework and exam due dates. That's a fun time right there! All day I cruise around my tasks and classes and campus with plots and stories and characters running through my head in Parkour glory. I am an engineering major, obviously. Oh, ha ha! Ha! The belly-laughs we will have over my jokes. So many jokes. Yes. *ahem* This is some damn good cake! Back to the point. I am inundated with thoughts and ideas and scenes until the day fades from "family bonding through litterbox duty" to "homework is fun and better than orgasms." Notice I did not claim it to be better than cake. We know better than to blaspheme cake. The point is, though, that I storycraft all day long until the opportunity avails itself for me to type these narratives. Dystopias. Myopia. Bill Nye the Science Guy. Cake. (introspective intermission) Ok I have given the matter exactly one minute of thought and here's what I think. I must power through and write until my fingers bleed and my voice dusts itself off and glides smoothly over page and pen. And then get a band-aid for the melodrama. Ouch, get it off! Right now I am successfully and productively avoiding re-writing a 5-pg. autobiography. I do not want to stay up all night writing but it is also quiet and still inside the house-perfect conditions for being distracted and getting sh*t done. Darn. Guess I'd better join the pillows and blankets on my bed in their quest for everlasting repose. Except I'll set an alarm. Sleep is for the dead, after all. Cake. And don't you forget it!