Whomp. Whump. Whap.
Oh, hello, dollies. I didn't see you there. What's that noise, you ask? *thump* Oh, it's just this silly head of mine. You see, I had to wait around all day for a bit of quiet time *thwhack* to compose my newsletter. It seems I'm quite the little *bam* procrastinator, and September is right around the corner *smack* and with a business still so new and fragile, it has been suggested *bonk* that the online sensation of an e-newsletter would excite Clementine's patrons to no bad end.
I sat and typed and *whomp* composed my little heart out and sent it off for a critique *plonk* and now all that I can do for the rest of the *whap* night is sit here and pound my head *thud* into my desk.
What really needs doing is the obvious re-write of the text. In my defense, I am wrung out and punch-drunk *thwack*, and I think all I really need is a lie-down. Tomorrow I can agonize over photos and grammatical errors. *whump* Yes, that will be lovely. I'm going to ask Miss Melly to take some pretty close-ups of the whiz-bangs and gew-gaws to use with the text of the newsletter *whap*, but could somebody please remind me why I chose this particular path to insanity?