2716

2716.  That’s how many words we’re at as we speak.  Or as I speak rather.  Since technically neither of us is actually speaking perhaps its better that I move on instead of continuing to drag this particular horse into an alley and cut off it’s head only to bludgeon it further.

I’ll say, things are busy as usual.  I’ve no other excuses for my slowish progress.  Also, I’m a terrible procrastinator ever since my childhood.  Why do now what I can surely worry about tomorrow, or even in a week, or a year?

BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER.

Seriously.  I’m 31 and I have white hairs popping up in weird places.  That is to say, any place at all where my hair is white is extremely weird to me.  After all, as far as I’m concerned I might as well still be 25.  Or 19.  Or 12 some days.  Or most days.  Whatever.

In any case, it feels good to be putting words on the screen again, even if they’re not as numerous as I’d like.  Baby steps and all that.  But chapter 2 is under way now, and we’re still moving forward.

-Paul

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