So I’m not even at the table, I’m not even writing with a mechanical keyboard. Instead, I’m on the bus, after an incredibly busy day, writing on the go.
My thoughts are all over, like my constantly moving iPad, sliding around as the bus starts and stops. There’s lots of work to do tonight, and I don’t have the time to do it. Or at least I’m not sure how to. But I’ll get it done. I have to.
Where does all the rushing go to? Is this the level I had hoped to be operating on? I thought I had preempted enough, but apparently not. There are so many things I did not expect, and in the months coming up, there are things I can and should work on.
I have to make do.
I can’t wait for the perfect moments, like writing in the best of moods and places. I have to just do it.
Messy as heck, but I’m doing it.
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