Back from Target, playing on the Green, trying to calm firefights between Jack and Emma and calm their playful craze at Target.  Exhausted honestly, not exaggerating.  Emma playing old school 16-bit NES in the office while I type a bit, think of a post for the vinovinevin blog.  Old Zin from St. Francis, or WP Foley from Chalk Hill just a handful of years ago.  Again, time.  The clock just moving, and I’m obsessing.  Making a new promise to myself to altogether HALT the address of time.  Of course I’ll date entries, but that’s about it.  Right now – this scene and day and set of written steps represent the ONLY time with which a writer need be concerned.

Kids upstairs in loft, relaxing.  I offer dinner options from here in home having spent a considerable amount at Target… from a new cash landing, so no harm to budget.  Don’t want to think about money beyond that.  Only NOW, the kids and our day, trying as it was.  Single writing dad all engines in front and back and learning ad hoc how to navigate.  Especially through exhaustion which now feel even after the power nap I took with Henry.