Old Man

Every night it seems, when I start writing, there’s this frosting layer of depressed emotion I have to wade through to find words.

Is it resistance? Is it my actual state of being?

Its wall-like presence intimidates me like one of those weeping angels from Dr. Who.

I wish I didn’t have this old codger over my shoulder with his monocle, lousy breath, and bony finger-wagging, telling me how uninteresting I am and that no one cares while I write.

Don’t you think I know that!? I want to yell at him. But however much I hate him, I’m grateful for the bastard; he pushes me to find my authentic self.

My mind’s having a hard time comprehending the Mariner’s success. I’m usually a one foot out the door with these guys, but they’re actually doing it, so I’m in big time.

Are you into seasonal house, yard, and car maintenance like Dave and I are? Last year we started a spreadsheet with oil changes, furnace filter changes, pressure washing, gutter cleaning, etc, and add items as they come up.

I don’t know why I told you that. Maybe so you can be impressed with how on top of our shit we are.

Well, I’m going to dive back into my book “The Secret History”.

I hope you had a wonderful day. Thanks for coming. Love, Jaclynn

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