I’m sitting down to write. I’ve got my Iced Vanilla Chai next to me, the music is at the right volume, and…nothing. Have you ever looked at something like a toaster and had that moment where you momentarily have no idea what it is, what it does, or how to use it? That’s how I’m feeling about the file list in my massive “Writing” folder right now.
On this Saturday with nice weather, at this moment in the afternoon, I apparently do not know how to write.
(Maybe you never did, ho ho ho.)
Perhaps this post is meant as a riposte. Or – if it can’t manage to be that – at least an exception.
That’s weird