Socking It Away

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is planning for her future. Her immediate, three-day future. That shouldn't be too difficult. It's not like planning what you're going to do for a nest egg if you live 30 years past retirement. No, this is only a minor exercise in time management. With a duty of selling tickets at Basementia's volleyball game on Monday, and a Tuesday late-afternoon brainstorming session to fulfill a faculty technology requirement, Mrs. HM must prepare and store some posts for the near future.

In the manner of saving pennies for a rainy day, of Katie Nolan stashing money in the tin-can bank nailed to the floor of the closet in that Brooklyn apartment, of squirreling away nuts for the winter, stockpiling milk for the famished infant when mommy has a corporate meeting, hiding the solid chocolate Easter bunny in foil in the back of the refrigerator... HM is feverishly typing three posts and future-dating two of them so she is not overwhelmed with pressure to churn out a daily blog come rain or come shine or come professional responsibilities.

Don't expect high quality. It's a 3-for-1 deal, remember. Much like those 5 for $5.95 roast beef sandwiches that Arby's offers, my posts may be a little light on the meat. I must spread my intellect over three nights. Note To Self: good luck with that.

Forgive me if my subjects end up being not-topical. Like if I make fun of those Bill Curtis 'discovering the internet' commercials, when that very morning the Abominable Snowman has been found soaking in the Fountain of Youth, using a wing of Amelia Earhart's plane as a footstool. My psychic abilities are not infallible.

I'm off to write in the future.