It’s been a very grey day, in every sense. Despite the warm weather (we hit 15C around noon), I couldn’t motivate myself to go outside for a walk. And I wanted to. Mentally. In my head, I kept thinking, despite the lack of sun, that it would be a lovely time to take a walkabout. But I couldn’t get the damned shoes on. I barely made it out to get the mail.
I got other things done. A flyer for a friend’s business for barter, finalizing a poster for another. I even updated my job search profiles on two different websites. Updated my portfolio with the flyer (really proud of that one). But that was all done from behind a keyboard. It’s easier to live anonymously, the subconscious says. It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. But today it held firm.
Wish I had more to write about tonight. Hell, I wish I was writing. I’m stuck; haven’t worked on the new play in days. I need a serious kick in the pants, metaphorically and literally.
The Bloody Doors Off 
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