Today I am writing to fill this space. Today I am writing because I have to write. I have to write daily and I have to write in the morning because I utterly fail at writing in the evenings. Even the evenings when I have the time and have promised myself I would write as a stopgap for not having wrtten that morning.
I’d rather be doing other stuff. I’d rather be working and getting ahead of the day so I can end it sooner and write in the afternoon as I sometimes promise myself I will. I’d rather be reading funny things on the Internet. Interesting things. Writing things. Distracting things. I’d rather be watching that last Equalizer DVD so that I can return it to Netflix and get some real movies back in the mix. I’d rather be watching those movies that I don’t yet have.
My fingers are cold. My stomach is swirly and feels like one big snow globe that’s been shook up—”Hey that’s not snow!”—instead of a long organized tube of guts. My head’s cold because my hair is cut needlessly short and I’ve got a fucking cat twining my legs like she unaware of how easily I could crush her, snap her in half, or snap her in half by crushing her.