Dying of packing, please send help. Or chocolate.

Oh. My. God. We have SO MUCH CRAP, you guys. SO MUCH. I spent most of the day sorting and boxing up stuff, and didn't even get two bookcases fully cleared. I tossed pile after pile of papers and notebooks, and only ended up with two grocery sacks filled for recycling. Also? I wrote lots of bad poetry when I was a teenager. Lots. VERY BAD. I haven't seen the cat in like three hours. I hope I didn't box him up by mistake.

I found a small treasury of things I printed out back when everybody and their cousin sent dozens of email forwards every day and you had to keep them in your inbox, since nobody had heard of Google yet. One of them was the fabulous 231 Things I Would Do If I Were an Evil Overlord. I'm so pleased at not having to type it all out, though I promise I would've done it, for you.

Highlights:

          >> My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear Plexiglas visors, not face-concealing ones.

          >> One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.

          >> All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.

          >> All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.

          >> If the hero runs up to my roof, I will not run up after him and struggle with him in an attempt to push him over the edge. I will also not engage him at the edge of a cliff. (In the middle of a rope-bridge over a river of molten lava is not even worth considering.)

          >> I will make the main entrance to my fortress standard-sized. While elaborate 60-foot high double-doors definitely impress the masses, they are hard to close quickly in an emergency.

          >> If I'm sitting in my camp, hear a twig snap, start to investigate, then encounter a small woodland creature, I will send out some scouts anyway just to be on the safe side. (If they disappear into the foliage, I will not send out another patrol; I will break out the napalm.)

          >> I will exchange the labels on my folder of top-secret plans and my folder of family recipes. Imagine the hero's surprise when he decodes the stolen plans and finds instructions for Grandma's Potato Salad.

          >> All giant serpents acting as guardians in underground lakes will be fitted with sports goggles to prevent eye injuries.



Reading:  Coast to Coast Ghosts by Leslie Rule

Playing:  a fabulous mix CD from my dear friend Heather Feather