The Dog Ate My Homework
I'd intended to post a second entry to my blog before this but there were too many deterrents:
- I've been feeling unwell. Not COVID-unwell; more old-Jewish-man-stomach, constant-slight-headache unwell. It has impeded my ability to concentrate on any writing beyond a few sentences in length;
- There was that subway shooting in Brooklyn. Remember that? It was a big deal — around the world, I think — for a few days. The shooting happened many miles from where we live but it was in a neighborhood in which my son used to live and, somehow, that made it seem more immediate;
- My son's dog is visiting. I love the dog...but the presence of another sentience in our apartment is somehow disequilibrating;
- I do suffer from life-long writer's block; it is not so easily overcome;
- I'm old and tired and find it increasingly arduous to summon up the — for lack of a better word — hopefulness that would impel me to share my observations of and/or thoughts about the world.
I'm pretty sure I could use help but — cantankerous introvert that I am — I'm not sure what kind of help that could possibly be...
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