I’m working on a short story that started out as an awesome idea that’s getting mired down in the details. I have about seven pages done so far, and while they’re good pages, I can’t really see where it’s going. I’m writing it in a very hodge-podge way: one scene here, one scene there, another scene over here... it’s very frustrating. I don’t just want to work, I want to be productive.
My weight seems to go up and down like Shatner’s during the third season of TOS. I lost about thirty pounds over the past few months, but my body loves to plateau every chance it gets. I guess I’m wired up to survive in case there’s ever another ice age and a food shortage. Again, it’s frustrating. Sometimes I feel like my weight has been one of the most deciding factors of my life.
Kids are at school, so back to work.