Too drunk to what?

You know that Buck Cherry song, right?  The one that makes you cringe because their first hit was so smokin’-eighties-hair-band-hot that you figured they were good for more of the same?  Well, they weren’t, apparently.  And yet, I think of this sophomoric offering as I consider editing today.  Too drunk to what????  Edit.  No, never what they say in the song.  I’m a chick, after all.  The alcohol only makes it (me) easier, baby.  Not getting off, necessarily, but drink enough and I just don’t care if it ‘happens.’  I’ll take care of that tomorrow in my free time.

The thing is that I like a little cocktail (juvenile snicker) while I’m writing.  But it is such a fine line between writing and drinking, and editing and drinking that I frequently get off-balance.  I can write just smurfy while drinking.  I hate sitting down with a fresh one and realizing that my job today is to edit.  I fuckin’ hate editing anyway.  I need a computer program that takes all of my intoxicated butchering of the English language and crams it into a borderline insane yet genius-clairvoyant perfect package.  I would pay quadruple the Scrivener price for that.  Make me pretty on paper, Scrivener!  Fix my typos while I type.  Now that would be an invention.

Without the work. 

While you’re at it, I want to push a format button on each submission site that will automatically make my piece exactly the way the editors want it, minus the 1-2 hours of my time.  Just plug-in your name, story title, yada yada yada and the rest is done for you.  Because (don’t tell anyone), I am not all that computer savvy and nearly everyone wants it at least a little bit different.

Shocking.  I know.  You all thought I was a tech nerd.

It takes me at least two tries to turn on my cell phone and realize it isn’t charged.