(no subject)

The snow's been relentless & that's just the way things go — all the things you might do take that additional effort & just living becomes challenging — as in, the sky itself is challenging you to exist.  Day by day — the living ain't easy.  So you settle into the easiest versions of the things you do & are.  I should really work on a book.  I don't know if I'm going to make anymore this year.  I mean — I have it in my plans.  But this is an uncertain moment where death & failure seem just at the edge of all the things you might do.  I sell a hardcover book here and there — when I remember to check my sales I'm always pleasantly surprised anymore.  Hey, thanks for buying a book!  I hope it helps you.  But I got ideas, and no will to execute them.  The couch & the easy time are what you settle into, the bare minimum.  Wake, go to work, go home, eat & sleep.  

It's pretty maddening though - there's a reason you end up with some despair.  And my job is... my job.  This place keeps trying to persuade me that it's more than what it is, that it's a track toward something more or better.  But it's just a job, 8-5, keeps food on the table & the lights on.  I don't let it get to me, it's not important.  Not in the hierarchy of the things worth caring about.  

Of course that list needs some help, encouraging.  

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