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Jack’s sleepover starts.  Not sure how much writing or recording there’ll be, but I’m in the nook.  Couple emails sent, pizza delivery scheduled.  Jack’s other friend on the way.  4 kids in the loft now but it might as well be 44.  When they’re all in bed, I’ll have quiet.  Just something I need now but can’t have and that’s fine.

This is about my boy.  Jack.  Thirteen now.  Jesus, fuck, I’m old.  So fucking old.

Solo tonight, and I’m looking forward to the challenge and demand for balance like I told the Nurse.  Miss her.  Fuck… keep distracting yourself, Mike.