So, with no library to go to, and the world seemingly on lock-down, I'm in for a lonely few days or weeks. My cousin isn't able/allowed to get together with me Tuesday night, so that leaves . . . well, me. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, I guess.
I did find myself Church Mused* today, knowing I couldn't go to the library, even if I drove over there, and I think it has to be purely psychological, right? If the library were open, would I be so excited to go write?
However, I could take my laptop with me and go for a drive, maybe up in the hills or down by the lake. As far as I know, going places where there aren't people congregating isn't dangerous or breaking the social distancing limitations we're supposed to self-impose. But I don't know.
I looked it up, and my previous record of writing days in a row was 56. That's another dozen days beyond today, so we'll see if I can match that (although I've gotten more words done in this run--66,834 than I did in last year's longer run--38,778). I wonder.
So, today was another short day filled with me not doing much but feel sorry for myself. I can't even remember what I did for half of it, except some yard work, and grocery shopping, and a couple of hours of babysitting.
I jotted down about a page in my notebook while I was in the car, and then vowed to grab my laptop and go for a drive, as I mentioned above. I took a minute to leaf through my 2017/18 notebook, and I found the first four or five pages of "Sins of a Sidekick," and told myself I really ought to make that a priority to finish, since it takes place before "A Sidekick To Miracles," which I wrote last year (or was it the year before?). I also stumbled upon a truly sick sketch I wrote for me and Renee Chambliss to do on the show, where a guy explains to his wife that he got fired from his job because they're all a bunch of bigots over there . . . and he dropped his pants in front of a coworker. Okay, several coworkers.
It was funny, I thought, but I don't know that I'd dare ask Renee to record it with me. And if I did, and she said yes (she probably would, she's really, really great), would I dare release it on the Dunesteef or Outcast? It's really quite effed up, and I worry that if I die and somebody reads that sketch out of my notebook, they'd say, "Boy, this guy probably should've been in a mental ward somewhere. And why is SCROTUM in all caps on here?"
Regardless, before the day was over, I drove over to the park, watching a small group playing volleyball, and then wrote for about an hour on my laptop until it got dark. I don't have an exact word count without counting the words in the notebook (and/or transcribing them), but I got another day in.
When I counted it all up, it was quite an impressive number. Guess there's a little wind in these sails after all.
Words Today: 3,201
Words This Month: 22,083
*Church Mused is a term I coined last month that describes the phenomenon I always have of REALLY wanting to write when I'm someplace where I'm stuck and unable to do so. I most relate it to being in church, super excited about the moment I'm able to get out, get home, and get writing. But of course, when I did get out and free, more times than I care to say, I found something else to do other than write, something easier.
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