Had to separate, detach myself momentarily and come to the desk.  LoFi beats on, and just detach.  No one but me.  Just me, my world.  Feel self being pushed into a bit of a dark space but ignoring the push, the shove, the voice that becomes annoyed when I’m happy or in pursuit of something that elevates and maintains my equanimity.

Writers I’m reading like Lawson and Irby remind me that I don’t need to care so much, fear consequence, or really fear anything.  Was a horrible month with sales… so what.  Is that my end-game, my life’s work?  Fuck no.  It’s where I am now though, and need to compose.  Maybe I’m not cut for sales, ever think of that?  I mean, I can sell shit, but my life’s work…?

Second cup of coffee.  And thoughts.  About everything.  Where I am, what I’m doing.

Time to switch stations…. Maybe some Tycho, or Emancipator.  Emancipator.  “Ghost Pong”.  Don’t think I’ve ever heard this song.  How much money in account….  Can’t log on.  Good.  I don’t want to think about money.  There’s plenty in there, just thought I should do the adult thing of checking, for whatever reason.

Cold outside, and cloudy.  Want to run when it’s hot, even though when it was hot last year I’d be in the mind of “I wish it were cooler…” Need to be that all-temp any-terrain runner.  3-4 miles today, no excuses.

10:13am An idea….  Yes, another one.  Then I fall bored, and the idea runs away from me.  Goddamn my mood, moods.  I’m out of it, I’m out of it.  Crazy how covid has just fucked up everything.  Or, made things optimal and idea for me.. writing blogger or blogging writer with kids and trying to run more, drink less wine…. See family more.  Write more.  Blog more.  Do everything and anything that makes me happy, MORE.  And if certain people get bothered by it, and wha tI do that makes me happy – doing something for ME – good.  I’ll do it more just see how much it bugs them.

Like a cartoon character my son likes says, “That’s wussup.”