I seem to have currently misplaced my Mojo. The darn little runt must have run off to somewhere. I'm guessing Bora Bora.
Without it, everything's taxing.
I wish I could take one, two, more days off to try and find it, but alas, life is not so easy that one freelance woman can take a day off whenever she wants to.
I tried to lure it back with chocolate, but alas, my stomach protested long before the Mojo was back.
I tried to lure it with all sorts of delicious tea, but again, my stomach protested it didn't want to swim in that much tea.
I tried to lure it with The Sarah Connors Chronicles on TV while I work, but alas, Brian Austen-Green's too cute to be compatible with work. It does not go well if I actually watch TV instead of working. So it broke my heart, but Brian had to go.
And my Mojo's still not back.
I figured I would take a few hours and work on my fairy tale, due next Halloween, to cheer me up. But my brains just wobbled and pouted like a blob of pudding. It just won't do the work without the Mojo.
So, Mojo, I know I ask a lot of you, but that's how much I need and love you. So please, come back home.
And tomorrow's plan:  tax return to fill. Oh joy. My Mojo's never going to come back.
Ah, the life.