As part of my continuing attempt to make each writing day unique, I wrote on the roof today. It was warm up there and pretty comfortable. Plus, I like being up high.

Thoughts I had while on the roof:

Wow, neat!

I have no place to set my diet pepsi.

The landlord probably wouldn’t like this.

I could almost pretend that I live in a New England village up here, if it weren’t for that stupid palm tree.

It’s getting kind of hot. I am glad I put on sunscreen.

I wonder if I could sit on the chimney.

The neighbor’s cat sounds creepy when it meows, like someone stepped on its voice box.

If I sat on the chimney, I would be like Fiddler on the Roof, only I would be writing. Writer on the Roof.

I need to blow my nose. Why didn’t I bring some tissue?

If I were a Rich Man… Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.

Didn’t Madonna or someone lame cover that song? Oh yeah, Gwen Stefani. What was up with that?

All day long I’d biddy biddy bum.

I really need to blow my nose. How do I get down?

I mean, even if I fell, it’s not like I could get hurt from this height.

Ok, ok, I am not a cat. I got up here, I can get down.

That was fun. I don’t know what it did for my writing, but I will probably go back up this afternoon.