After I finish writing this book I'm becoming a romance novelist. Or a cupcake baker. Or a juggler of circus balls. Anything other than the crucible of writing about pain.

Who am I kidding? Even cupcake bakers have pain, am I right? Every time I see a painstakingly decorated cupcake I think: shit, that person has Daddy issues. They just hide it behind fondant and food coloring.

Or maybe decorating cupcakes is their way of processing pain. I use my words to process pain, they use frosting.

Now that I think of it, frosting is much better. I would like some frosting right now. Can someone please bake me some cupcakes with frosting and mail them to me? I would like that very much. Because I'm somewhat obsessed with cupcakes and also, ADD medication.

Oh! oh! ADD Cupcakes. YES! This-THIS-is what the world is missing. I imagine ADD cupcakes as rainbow colored with bright pink, sparkly frosting. And maybe a hot air balloon on top. You're welcome. I hope you make a million bucks with that idea. Better yet? Insert daily doses of ADD medication into the hot air balloon and deliver them to your local ADD sufferer. I promise, you will make more money than Spanx.

Speaking of ADD meds, my new healthcare insurance has decided mental health benefits are, like, totally unnecessary unless--UNLESS--I'm diagnosed with a Major Mental Illness. So, you know. Unless I'm sharpening razors the better to slit my wrists, my insurance company pretends I'm fine. Just fine. Go home, take an aspirin and call me in the morning.

HMO insurance needs an ADD Cupcake up the wazoo, if you ask me. Don't they know I'm trying to write a book here???? Actually, what they don't know is: writing a book is better than ADD medication because nothing motivates me more than Pain & Deadlines.

I will have you know that I have completed CHAPTER SEVEN and am halfway through CHAPTER EIGHT. Who needs ADD meds now, huh? HUH?!

Wait. Am I procrastinating?

Somebody send cupcakes.