We carry a book at Barnes and Noble titled No One Cares What You Had For Lunch. (For the record: Kung Pao and Orange Chicken, Fried Rice, and a small Dr. Pepper from the Panda Express on Bosque, right next to Target.) It's one of those books that can be digested simply by reading the title and the back cover.
A quick summation: No one cares what you had for lunch, so stop sharing insignificant circumstantial facts about your life. Here's some writing prompts.
I agree. You don't care what I had for lunch. But what about days like today when lunch was perhaps the most eventful and significant act I participated in?
These days are rare, but they do come from time to time. Some would say, ("some" as in entertain-me-please adolescents and those like them who never moved beyond their teens emotionally) that I did absolutely nothing today. I've talked to no one. Aside from two old acquaintances I ran into at the store, I've seen no one.
I should have used this day off, when all my friends are still out of town for Thanksgiving, as a time to "get things done." My car is due it's bi-monthly cleaning. I've been sleeping in a room with nothing but white primer on the walls for a couple of months. Oh, and there's that book I started writing 21 months ago that I haven't worked on in 19 months. I could have been doing that.
But, instead, "nothing."
But this is something. I'm writing you a list of all the things I've done today...
-- For breakfast I had coffee and oatmeal while watching Rocky II.
-- Jane and I ran 2 1/2 miles. I'm back on the running wagon, having ran on consecutive days for the first time in months.
-- Went "into town." (For those of you who didn't grow up in a small town, living outside of town isn't a prerequisite for using the phrase "going into town." "Into town" simply refers to the driving from your house to some area in which commerce occurs.)
-- Ate aforementioned lunch.
-- Got my hair cut.
-- Went grocery shopping where I purchased, among other things, a rotiesserie chicken. For all you old-school UBC'ers, am I the only one who thinks of that sermon Kyle gave with a rotiessierie chicken as a prop when I purchase a rotisserie chicken? (I've just spelled the type of chicken I purchased two different ways. Hopefully one of them was correct.)
-- Watched An Unfinished Life. Was impressed and moved, but not overly so.
That's about it. The rest was filled with more filler.
I have no good end for this, so I'll just tell you I have not eaten dinner yet, but it's probably too late to do so. Tomorrow I plan on tearing into that chicken, though.