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Slice 273 of 365

As has been the norm lately, there was no work again today. Last night I considered that if there was still nothing in my inbox this morning that maybe I would just spend the entire day, after dropping Becca and before picking her up, out. This morning there were no new projects in my e-mail, so I made mental notes about coming back after dropping the offspring at school. Then I thought, with five minutes left before having to go, why should I come all the way back?

Quickly, I changed my clothes and threw my computer and my current reading material into my laptop case, and with guilt securely in place left the building with Elvis. Dropped the kid at school and went to stop number one, coffee and breakfast. Stayed there about two hours, reading, eating and cleaning up Twitter followers (a long and tedious process which never seems to end). Reading is always good inspiration.

Checked work e-mail, just to make sure that karma and irony hadn’t double teamed me, and given me work while I was out. So far so good, depending on how you look at it.

I left there because too many dogs were showing up in the patio area where I was sitting in the lovely weather and ruining the atmosphere. (Take a deep breath animal lovers, I don’t hate them. I just wish they would stay home.)

Off to the mall. It was just after 10:00 and they were barely open. Lots of mall walkers, and I think, except for employees I was the youngest one in the place. Currently sitting in their lounge area right now writing this. Also read what Dena (the writer) sent me, finally, and sent her notes, That was fun.

Need to have lunch and then work on real writing. Have an idea for an article on language, but no idea where to try and sell it. Then some book writing, which one I have no idea. I need ideas to stop coming to me. I should work on the sequel, but I’m afraid I’m trying too hard on that now, and it makes me anxious to even think about it. Then I feel guilty not writing and that makes me even more anxious. Rinse. Repeat.

The time seems to drain away just as fast, even leaving the dregs of the house behind, to concentrate better on the written word.

That might be the longest sentiment on procrastination I ever slung forth.

Until tomorrow…

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