I’m not participating in the A-Z blogging challenge. I didn’t write anything for letters A-E and I’m not doing G-Z. Oh, I’m not knocking it. I probably would have been up for it, had I gotten the memo, but since I’ve been so engrossed in moving, I’ve thought of little else for weeks on end.  But since today didn’t work out the way it was supposed to, I decided I’d have a little fun with F.

There are so many wonderful things that start with the letter F.

F is for Friday (that’s today) the day normally reserved for my weekly guest spotlight. This is where I feature other writers and challenge them to raise the bar on the funny so I can have a much deserved night off.  

F is for Forgot (because I forgot to get anyone as a guest for this week.) Yeah, I totally dropped the ball on this one.  But who could blame me? I’ve had my head so buried in boxes for the past week and a half I taste cardboard in my dreams.

And F is for Fuck…now I have to write it myself (I don’t need to explain that one, do I?) But since my life has been reduced to an episode of Hoarder’s, I can’t seem to think of a single funny thing to write about. I mean, even I don’t care if I have hot water anymore. And so what if there was a huge spider in the bathtub this morning (I’m talking tarantula huge…I had to kill it with an entire can of Scrubbing Bubbles!) Let’s face it…this stuff is just not interesting anymore.

F is for Fangs (because we’re getting closer to the new season of the Daywalkers every day.) Will Victoria survive? Will Claude flirt with Lizzie. Will Sebastian find Anne in time? I’ll never tell!

F is for Fudge brownies (another no-brainer, and my current food of choice.)

F is for Flatulence (Sorry, I’m sitting really close to the Mastiff as I write this.) Just be glad you only have to read about it…my eyes are burning as I type.

F is for Farm (that’s here) and is it just me or does the grass grow way faster down on the farm? I’ve been here for two weeks and already the back forty has grown so high I lost the dogs’ leashes and Indy’s favorite Teddy Bear. But since we still have one furry ear and the left leg, Indy is placated until we unpack the mower to uncover the rest.

F is for Friends (and I really miss mine.) Even my online friends (some of the very best friends I have) have been neglected during this brutal move. I may just be too old for this shit after all.

F is for Fast asleep (that should be me in a few minutes.) It’s been a long day, and we’re having a yard sale in the morning. Time to get rid of some of this stuff I’ve collected over the years. I mean, how many sets of fireplace tools do you need when you don’t even have a fireplace?

Oh yeah…F is for Finished (because I’m officially done with this post.)

Until the next time…I’ll be selling my life from my front porch!