You’ll forgive my brevity, dearest reader, but I’m feeling a bit off this evening.

N.P.: “Taurus” – Mosh

There are some days when it becomes clear that it’s time to take a break from people, and today was one of those days. I’ve tried to make time for them, but the writing is suffering (in as much as it’s not getting done), and the result seems to be nothing but bitching. So I’m going to refocus on finishing these books, and everything else can kiss my ass. Except you, dear reader…you remain The Best.

N.P.: “We Are Done” – The Madden Brothers

I think exhaustion is just my baseline now. It’s the new norm. Now matter how much sleep I get, there is still the vague feeling of exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.

There’s a lot of stuff going on, but I can’t talk about any of it here. Suffice it to say I need significantly more time during my days. And nights. And an assistant. And a manager. You know what would be both helpful and cool, is a hype man.

N.P.: “Nyctophilia” – AGLORY

It’s February, dear reader, and I’m beginning to fear we here in the west have been ripped off and deprived of another winter. If things do not improve soon, I may have to nude up and go outside and do my Celtic Rain Dance. It’s quite disgusting and will no doubt inspire complaints by the neighbors, and to the neighbors I sincerely apologize but say also tough titty: I slogged all the way through that last bastard of a summer on the promise of a winter and By God I Will Have My Winter. Besides, we need the rain.
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I haven’t been doing much driving lately, but today I got a chance to take the Panty Dropper out for some triple-digit speed therapy. ‘Twas lovely.

N.P.: “I Won’t Back Down” – Hybrid

Up before dawn, wrote some stuff, went to a series of mid-morning meetings and quickly decided I should have stayed at home and drank. Alas. Gonna see if I can get some words in before collapse.

N.P.: “They Will Pay” – Dead Soul

Goddammit, dear reader, I’ve been so busy, I missed Burns Night!  It was last Saturday night.  I drank significant whiskey, but that was just circumstantial because it was a Saturday night…not specifically for Robert Burns.  I don’t remember what I had for dinner, but it certainly wasn’t haggis, it certainly wasn’t on a silver platter piped in with bagpipes, and I certainly did not read/perform a rendition of the Address to a Haggis.  Shit.  

And then I missed the 175th anniversary of the publication of The Raven yesterday.  And I had no whiskey yesterday.  In fact, I was woefully sober all day…inappropriately so for such a momentous occasion.  I’m really falling down on the job here, tolerant reader.  I am getting some writing done, though.  So there’s that.  

N.P.: “He Is” – Ghost

Second verse, same as the first, dear reader. It’s a time management problem: I have exactly no time, and somehow need to manage to get everything done, including finishing two books and getting them sold. If I can, I’m going to try to stay up late tonight working on something for you. Or actually finishing something for you. Not sure I can finish it…probably can’t. But I’m trying, patient reader…I’m trying.

N.P.: “Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)” – Class of ’99

Outta time again tonight, dear reader. Hopefully we’ll have more time tomorrow. Also, I could use a drink. #deskwhiskey

N.P.: “Pig Boy” – Sweaty Nipples

Superhero Shout Out to Nurse Squealita for delivering the neighbor’s baby in the neighbor’s car in the neighbor’s driveway. In her jammies. Most impressive.  #badass

I’ve been making some surprising decisions recently.  Nothing big, no life-changing things…very minor stuff, little decisions, but little decisions that I’m faced with pretty routinely, that I routinely decide the same way about, decisions that I’m suddenly surprising myself with by suddenly making completely choices.  That probably doesn’t make much sense, but it’s interesting.  Gah…I’m so tired I’m probably incoherent.  Must sleep.

N.P.: “No Miracles” – SDH (Semiotics Department of Heteronyms)