Desperado
Uh-oh. I have one hour to write 160 words, or I fall off the yellow brick road at Beeminder. Which, given that I’ve adjusted my 100,000-word target down to 66,666 (without actually mentioning it here; I’ve been planning to nudge it up again at some point), would be a pretty feeble performance. So I’d better write something.
Nope, I’m really not feeling inspired here. Mind too full of work stuff, and I don’t feel like writing about ominous anniversaries instead.
Anyway, blogging comprehensively doesn’t even feel good. Haven’t I just kinda lost my notional object? Perhaps. Quick, read some trivial, unremarkable verbiage. Weblogs xerox your Zs.
Well, it makes some sort of sense, but it’s only 26 words. I’d have to do that two more times in the next fifteen minutes to get over the line, and one of them is going to have to include xylophones.
Clearly, this is just one of those days where it’s not coming together, and I should just write stream-of-consciousness stuff until I cross over the magic 160-word mark.
Oh good.
11 September 2012