The only thing worse than nothing to say is too much. It’s like having a log jam in your brain.
Example: M and I split the sheets last month. She’s moved down the road and I’m still here in the giant wind tunnel.
Obviously, there’s plenty more to say –but- it’s a little like looking at life through a bug’s segmented eyes… with so many simultaneous perspectives occurring at once – how do you stick with just one?
I will say this… for a rarified look at your life, subtract all furniture, along with the object of your affections, then plop your ass down on the floor to stare at a really big white wall for a while.
Oddly, this isn’t as bad as it might sound.
*Photo taken atop Squaw Peak this a.m. with the moon still up and the sun not quite.
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So does this mean you have internet access back? Would you like to do lunch tomorrow (Sunday)?
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