It’s hot. And by that I mean it’s cold, but I’ve got the little wall heater by my desk running, so it’s actually quite warm. Need to remember to shut it off.
I’m trying to remain out of touch this week. Avoiding playing/wasting my fucking time on Facebook. Erin has been working closing shifts, so I have more down time than normal when I’m done with work.
If I’m done at work, he says, having just jumped back on to answer an email even though he’s clocked out for the day.
Anyway, I ordered a Kindle book on writing. If I can manage to take the quiet tonight, I’m going to sit on the couch with Gidget, who hasn’t been doing so hot, and spend some time reading. Maybe try to get my head focused on the story I’ve been wanting to work on.
There’s always some story I want to work on, and every excuse/block that keeps me from making any headway.
It’s Monday. After the weekend of not doing anything, Monday feels like a slap in the face by Reality saying, “See, dumbass? You waste your weekends, and here you are, with shit to do, and NOW you want to fuck around! Eat dick gravel!”
Anyway. I posted. Life’s a fucking dream.
