Amotivation

Sneaks up. Feels like someone's filled your shoes
with cement. Your head with a blank page waiting
to be filled on the day you have the worst case of writer's
block ever. The whole I don't give a flying f*** attitude sucks!
But I do, I suppose, give a f***, or I would not be here, typing away,
thinking about what I need to do.

Need and want are two very different things, but each
indicate some pull of the life force. Pull on, baby.

*

Another fox last night. They must love Hwy 120. I see
at least one every time I have to drive it (which is only
when I am on call and have to go to Crittenden Co.
Hosp., which is in the middle of the boonies!). Three
dear crossed within 20 ft of my car. Slowing down as
I was almost at the hospital, so thankfully no mishap.
Appeared to be two does and a fawn. Many lucky little
critters last night (ar at least when I met them!). Can see
their eyes in the oncoming lights. Like two small, red
glaring lights. Then off they shoot into the brush.
Lots of fog last night, too. And a bug-smeared windshield,
which the wipers and washer fluid only made worse, but
the fog kept coating the windshield in a fine mist.

I thank George Winston, Tom Waits, and Lucinda Williams
for keeping me company.

*

Struggling to complete The Man Who Loved Children. Why
I have stayed with it is beyond me. On pg 400 something
and been saying since pg 100 I am sure this is going to get
better. Keep reading. I am sure it's not, considering I only have
about 50 pages left.

*

Still wondering when it's going to happen. It has to for so many
reasons. The facade must crumble away. Not time yet, though.

*

Have a feeling I'm a gonna just stay in this nightie all day!

*
Finished the book. Reflection time. Weighing out why I stayed
with it, what it's really about (as if there is this accepted explanation
out there and the book can only be about that). Wore me out.

Need something really dark to pick me up.