I have it. Or rather, I have exhaustion, right now. I have been in front of a computer for most of the day today, either working or writing, and now that it's time to blog my brain is empty.
I brainstorm ideas on how to get ideas. Go to the photo boxes, pull one out, and write a story or a memory. I try it. I don't remember anything about any of those people, because I am tired.
A thing, I'll look around at my things and write about a thing. I glance around, and see a plume. What do I have to say about a plume? Nothing, that's what.
Cooking! Does posting a recipe count as blogging? What if I tell about how I splash a little pancake batter into the egg mix for french toast? Ugh, I feel too fat to write about food, after yesterday.
Military stories! They're rolling in, I'll tell one of those. Oh, I should save them for the new website.
Free writing then. Go!
Patrick Conroy has a new book out, "The Death of Santini." Must get that. I'm out of eggs. Remember how I used to be an insomniac? No more, I sleep like a rock. I am a lucid dreamer, which can be interesting, but doesn't find me as restful. I have to keep myself it then. Black Friday: No thank you; I had one errand to run today in which I could see the BF traffic, and was relieved that my travels took me in the opposite direction.
Enough, enough. Rocksleep beckons, and I'm going to need my rest.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
One More Day! One More Day! You are sooooooo close! You can do it!
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