Thursday [my monday…]

8:32am.  Couple ticks and tocks to Self.  Nice outside.  Should be on way to office, but instead to their clock.  Haven’t had coffee yet, reader.. reason for my rancor.  All these notifications of friends, family on Road, in travel, around globe, motivating/frustrating me, symphonically.  All I can do is continue to write, indulge in my obsessive habits.  Speaking of, no run yesterday, nor this morning as I’d hoped for.  So when I’m home from work, assured.  5+ miles.  Not letting Self do 6, or 7, 8, or nearly-nine as I did on Tuesday.  Can still feel a bit of that sprint’s ripples, surprisingly, especially in legs.

8:36am.  Want this up by 8:40.  Or at least saved as Draft– ugh, listen to me, talking like some over-doted blogger.  Still bothered by WordPress using that Capote quote.  They don’t do anything to promote print.. NOTHING.  They don’t help authors with books.  And not that I’m in any way a fan of publishing, being published, but they don’t help with that either.