Monday, June 13, 2005
I woke up at almost noon today, watched aliens vs. predator, took my dog for a walk, tried calling mrs. P but the lines are clogged, ate a frozen pizza dillio and am now watching san antone beat up on Detroit.
I need to come up with a creative original idea that hasn’t been done before. I could come up with a rehash of an idea that’s been done 85 times but I know I can do better. I’m probably wrong. It’s likely time to sell out to the highest bidder. Hello weekly world news, gracias para la dollar fifty.
Fuck. Ok, back. I’m pissed. I somehow lost 5 dollars on a blockbuster transaction. And it was cash, so there’s no way to trace it down. One five dollar bill, lost in the winds, who knows where. Damn. And Oedipus thought he had a tragedy on his hands. I tell ya.
Ok I just cranked out 582 werds on the master thesis, the preamble end. Did I tell you that there’s just as much production going on at the front as in the back? I’m pretty sure that the 60k I wrote already is just the middle. Kind of like a star wars thing where the front & the back will grow like a head and a pair of feet. Except I ain’t george lucas and the thing I’m building will end up as a tattered manuscript in some old drunk’s garage sandwiched in between boxes of comics and spoiled mildewed dreams. Or not. Don’t think I’m taking the woe-is-me pathway. I’m not. Serially. It’s just inane to compare myself to one of the most successful creative forces without getting a little self-defamatory.
Bah. fuck it all. I’mma crank out another 400 at least and then call it a nite, read some updike, maybe some U of Alaska literary mag shit, pass out on a pillow of broken platitudes. Shit like that.
Ok, I just did it; 1,086 words for the night. Plus this shit slash crap slash horse manure. plus a couple paragraphs of notes to self. yay for productivity, such as it is. Go me. Slap on the back to go with the one across the face.
Hope all is well in, uh, shitland, or wherever you stay. Peace.