Cartridge this morning, $25.  And that’s just what I had in my wallet.  Going to printing parlor.  The home printer’s angering me, and I don’t like the paper.  From now on, I’m printing everyday, so I’m not in this position.. collect pages!

10:52AM.  Back from printing tavern.  The machine wouldn’t read my debit card, and they charge too much to print from computers.  So no thanks.  Bought new printer.  Printing here at home, then I’ll run copies there, but not for a while.  Want to relax here in condo, make some coffee, and bloody write.  This is my day, and I won’t be rushed, or stressed.  Not even a little.  And that list of to-do’s… eh…..

And here I am printing…  But I haven’t made final edits, yet.  So frustrated.

Cleared desk, threw away/freed from clutter.  Just going to write.  Spirit too sore to edit the 41 pages.  May wind up putting it, the 41pg-er, on hold again.  Instead, I’ll print 3 edited pages today.  Then tomorrow, then the next, till I have an amount I want to publish.  Hungry, suddenly.  Should I get brunch, write at a new site?  Like where?  The café?  Omelette Express?  Not sure.. don’t think about it too much, I’m telling mySelf.  So why am I?

1:22PM.  Back home.  Don’t know how much time I wasted driving around.  Couldn’t find a parking space, anywhere.  But I did deposit the Self-publishing money, bought self a burrito from place two blocks away (not the place I went last week, or whenever that was).  Lesson learned: stay near, travel light, keep everything in as simple a state as you can.

‘Ed’ is driving me crazy, with all the editing I have to do.  Okay, diehard due date: 12/19/13, a book due.  I don’t care if it’s ‘Ed’, some derivation or expansion thereof, but you will be bringing a book to the printing/copy hut on 4th.  While driving around, or rather back from my parking spot hunt downtown, I thought about–  No, not going to say.  That’ll of course jinx it, as I did with my priority list in yesterday’s entry.  Just let it flow, evolve, your days.

Do I take a nap, or have coffee, keep writing, start on this new idea I had?  Sip this sparkling, think…

Trying to think as Mr. Hemingway would.  First, I’ve learned my lesson: don’t leave the house.  Even the parking lot where my lunch’s restaurant is, was full,  forcing me to hunt a little.  I’ll brew my own, if I don’t nap.  Oh.. a little snooze sounds gorgeous right now.  Should I…..?

5:41PM.  I did result in a nap.  And I feel like today was wasted.  No printed MS, nothing towards PhD writing sample.  I bought gloves and running items for Alice, but not much was done for me.  I posted all yesterday’s words, but now they’re just on this bloody blog.  Watching Jackie play relaxes me.  He organized plastic water bottles in rows.  Fixates on a sequence, arrangement, then changes it.  He’ s like his father, I fear; indecisive, constant, passionate, but roaming indefinite.  Maybe it’s too early to tell.