Not my day, as I just noted someone.  Start over… as a writer and person and character in this day.  Cease with this malignant rigidity… or maybe that’s the thing, I’m not rigid enough as a writer or person or blogger or, well, anything.  Certainly not as a runner.

Maybe try loving self a bit more I think.  Okay… how?  Like this blog says, “#dowhatyoulove”.  Not sure I have it in hashtag form.  Either way, do something for yourself… go for a drive.  Go taste wine somewhere.

Decided no.  Read instead.  Ms. Lawson.  She knows what this is like.

3:22pm Back from a drive.  Rain, cold, no reshaping of tenor.  What so I accomplish in this ongoing plenary.  

Stop…. State what’s ensuing.  To journal….  Wrote something.  Feel a little better. Recover through writing, honesty with self, with others if you want but for sure with the 1948 journal.

Wife’s friend outside talking and she just won’t stop.  What is she doing here anyway?  Another free meal?  Wouldn’t be surprised.  A second ago, right when I came home and sat down I could hear her right outside on other side of the window here talking about Valentine’s Day and ….