I have effectively taken this week off from any form of humanity. I’ve been in bed before 9 three days running and (I think) four out of the last six, and I basically spent all day in bed yesterday. No substantive work of any kind outside of one blog post got done.
Well, okay, I managed to go and get fitted for my suit for my brother’s wedding in June, but that was more an extended exercise in humiliation than getting something done. I applied for a job on Monday. Nothing else.
On Tuesday I damn near burned the entire concept of “Luther Siler”– which, remember, is a pen name– to the ground.
The “spend eight hours a day alone” thing is really starting to get to me, is what I’m saying here.
Today, I’ve got the boy with me all day, because he’s got today and Monday off from school. So, on the one hand, there’s virtually no chance that any writing or productive work other than this post is going to get done. That’s bad. On the other hand, I’ll have him around to keep me out of my head. That’s good.
I gotta get a job, people.