10:33.

No idea what to do.  I could keep looking for vendors I guess, or take a break.  How about take a break, even though I kind of just took one.  I can’t get warm in this goddamn house, even with the heater on.  This desk, in a corner, with windows on either side.  Shades are down and closed, but I’m still freezing.  How to stay productive, how to stay moving…..  Go for a drive, I’m thinking.  Work in your car.  I need to get out of the house.

Where would I park.  Good question.  Actually no that’s a stupid question, and an even more idiotic idea to leave the house.  I want the shelter-in-place madness to consumer me…. That’s what will keep me writing.

Have an idea for tonight… no wine, just water and intermittent coffee.  Pull an all-nighter, be a student, a student on a deadline.  You write your thesis tonight… you saved it for the last minute.  What’s it on?

Shit….

Think, think… or, don’t think.  THERE IT IS.  On not thinking and when writing you force yourself and bring yourself to a place and thoughtful space of thought-void, only electing movement.  Communicate where you are and what you’re doing.  There is no boring scene, and if you’re bored with your writing then you throw wildness from your vocal.

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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