the right time to write

Friday.  Finally.

A long week and barely any entries.  That happens when I don’t write on a Sunday.  Sunday writing has become the key to a good week of entries.  Typically, I’ll get at least one full post knocked out (Monday’s) and a couple outlines or ideas captured down as drafts.  Then I’ll work on those drafts during weeknight evenings or over lunch break at work.  But when I don’t do Sunday, and I don’t crib down ideas… I’m stuck for the week.  Work wrings any free thought from my brain and I end up staring at a blank page most nights.  Such was this week… there was a bunch to write about but never the right time to write.

It’s 9:30pm now and I’m just thirty minutes out of my last meeting of the day.  I’m reclined on the couch, typing, and my toes are icy cold.  I’m wondering what I can snack on.  I finished off the bag of Goldfish Sharaun got in the bulk aisle upon getting home from work.  Sharaun, in some fit of sweet-deprivation, baked a box of pre-mixed chocolate chip muffins (I didn’t even know we had them), but I don’t feel like that.  Late night snacks should be spicy.

I shaved my head last Friday, and have shaved it twice again since then.  I like the way it looks, all bald and smooth.  Keaton also likes it and has taken to calling me “bald head.”  Sharaun is not so sure.  I’ve taken to calling it my “last haircut.”


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