Firebreak

Two nights ago I wrote for a couple hours about some made up people on a made up island. I thought it went well and then the next morning I sat down to think about writing again in the same vein. I was even thinking I would start getting up early in the morning every day to write (which I sometimes think of doing, every once in a while I start thinking that). But I got up the next day around nine and I sat staring at my books and I thought, shit I don’t know what to write about, and even if I did what’s the point of this story, and the point of life, as I usually do. My wife was like, “Do you want to do yoga with me?” I was like fuck it, “Ok.” I figured if I did the yoga I would stop the downward spiral and at least switch gears, if not feel better. Well, after yoga I didn’t really care about writing but i also didn’t really care that I didn’t care. Wife got angry about something that her sister said and they both went to their rooms and slammed the door. It was something about the knives not being sharp which wife took as a personal affront since she’s the one who usually sharpens them and neither of us have done it before. So I watched a video on sharpening knives with a whetstone and then I sharpened knives for two hours. I ate lunch and then I went to work. So I didn’t get any writing done, but I didn’t sit around staring at books and thinking about how terrible things were. And then I didn’t get up from the couch and get dressed for work thinking, what a wasted day. Maybe the day was a waste, most are, but it wasn’t such a bad day.

Today I got up and realized I don’t have to be at work for an hour later than I thought I would. So then I went on twitter to tweet some BS to try to promote this guy’s book and read all this stuff in the news about Charlie Hebdo. And then I tried to write more on that story but I just wasn’t into it. I got like an hour before I have to leave for work now and I don’t know what I’ll do, but I guess I better get away from this typing machine before I start typing what a stupid idea it was to be born, &c.

Wife is already pacing the apartment listing all the things she has to do and how does anyone expect her to get this all done, &c. I guess I’ll try to eat something and take a shower or some normal thing people do.

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