I usually wait until Wednesday evening to write this column for Sunday's edition, electing to figure it out from week to week in the comfort of my own home - the beauty of computers and e-mail that weren't part of this job when I started.
The column needs done on Wednesdays because this Valley Life section in which it runs goes on the press on Thursdays.
So I choose to put this column on the Janice do-it-at-home list sometime Wednesday evening, knowing that somehow, some way, at day's end inspiration will strike, ultimately, eventually.
Take last week's column for instance.
I didn't really have a handle on what topic I was going to decide the Sunday reading public needed to know to persevere onward and upward for the week until I glanced over at Better Half.
I'm usually sitting on one couch where I'm balancing my laptop while he's sitting on another couch engrossed with the Herald-Star's crossword puzzle or Celebrity Cipher or watching the Pirates or a political news analysis show.
This particular Wednesday was no different, but as I watched him savor the second of three chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream cones, completely oblivious to any other life forms around him, I heard the "bingo!" sound in my head loud and clear.
I know - I'll write about ice cream, Moose Tracks ice cream!
And so I did, mentioning how I can't seem to get enough of it, so I've been doing my best not to deny myself.
Apparently a lot of readers feel the same way because the column generated quite a response, including this nice letter from a lady named Marilyn, who so sweetly wondered how I stay "so slim and trim" despite being hooked on Moose Tracks.
Thank you for that, Marilyn, but the truth is everything comes at a price, and I'm already realizing that I need to make tracks around a track because of Moose Tracks.
And now comes the busy season post Labor Day holiday where organizations and clubs start meeting, and that means food, food, food everywhere. Between Moose Tracks and buffets to come, I almost need a mouth security system to keep my food intake in check.
I'm contemplating that as I write this column not on Wednesday evening but in the wee hours of Thursday morning as I sit here at my kitchen table.
My Wednesday, incidentally, got later and later thanks to three horses named Coffee, Fortune and Karma. (I'll blame it on them.) By the time I got home from the barn and sat with the laptop balanced before me, Mr. Sleepy paid a visit, and I welcomed the diversion.
The next thing I knew, after a night of dreaming that I was writing my column, I awakened in the middle of the night to discover I hadn't written anything at all, which explained the blank screen.
But I'm here, hoping that as you read this, you'll be enjoying summer's last hurrah.
Happy Labor Day.
(Kiaski, a resident of Steubenville, is a staff columnist and features writer for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times and community editor for the Herald-Star. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)