Write Whatcha Know...

Whoever said that wasn't kidding. Man, yesterday was a shit day for writing, and I wasn't doing so well with my camera, either.

But back to the words... I had some uncomfortable blockage in my brainial colon while trying to rewrite an article for a client on a topic I don't know much about and for which there's limited information to work from. Here's a shot of me working on it:


I struggled with the article, then I struggled with my camera to practice what I learned last week in Chicago. It was not a good day, and I wasn't even fighting a headache or other ailment - my brain just wouldn't function.

So, I had some cookies, watched some TV and went to bed early. Oh, and at one point in the afternoon I yelled (politely) at Crazy Neighbor Bob to turn down his stupid truck stereo he was blasting while sweeping leaves off his front porch - and it wasn't anything good he was playing.

Who does that? Who plays his car stereo so loudly it's louder than a radio playing inside your own house? What a jerk. No, Bob, only you enjoy quasi-country-pop tunes played loud enough to be heard in Fresno - the rest of us would like to make our own listening choices.

But I'm happy to say today was much better. I re-shot the photos and I think I'm back on track, I *think* I successfully reworked the article, and I have not yelled at any neighbors, but it's still early.

REM

Since quitting my job, my brain has been dreaming again. That had almost shut down completely when I was still working for The Man.

Even if my head was up my butt most of that time, too tweaked about the ills of that place, why wouldn't my brain keep trying to make sense of it all with a little REM? Wouldn't that have helped?

Or did I let it mess me up a bit too much? OR, is it what I've wondered all along... that the office sits atop an ancient burial ground and the whole place is lousy with evil spirits?