Baby Steps

I know I’m always ailing, so I wont’ bore you with my latest malaise, however tomorrow morning the sun will shine, I will get my ass out of bed no later than 8 AM, brew a yummy southern pecan roast for my carefe, and then I’m fleeing the house.

I can’t write at home. Someone always needs something, someone always wants to talk to you, someone is always talking to someone else about a topic on which you are itching to intervene and it’s IMPOSSIBLE to tune them all out.

One would think, given the last set up at my beloved former job, that this would be easy peasy.

It’s not.

I now have a lengthy list of places where I can escape and write.


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