T minus 4 days (plus lemon and honey)

I once read a story about a man trapped in a snow globe, though that revelation didn't occur until the end of the tale. Except I think it was a short film. Or perhaps a cartoon. But it's an idea I didn't think of, I can't remember well, and I don't care enough to either find it or attempt another episode along that same vein.

In this world of finite ideas where none are new, it's curious how often a concept feels inspired. Yet, I'm sitting here, rehashing faint memories of vignettes that didn't catch my eye the first time around, but linger in my subconsciousness. Today's weather was blustery (thanks, Pooh!), but not bad enough to turn my thoughts to snow. So far as I can detect, I'm not suffering from claustrophobia, nor am I waiting for some divine force to shake my world. My status remains pretty durn quo. Hmm.

My hope is my brain has slowed to focus on Nano. Similarly, my hope is that my body (at least my metabolism) has sped up for Flabberino. Both start this Saturday at midnight, and within a paltry two hours, I sacrifice 60 minutes to the ghost of daylight savings. Somewhere around that time, I intend to be surrounded by writers - who, I once again reminded myself last night, have the social skills of right-brained tech programmers. It makes sense - when you pour out your soul, your thoughts, and your brain on paper for the world to read, it's often best to leave your body somewhere said readers can't do damage.

Because we're vulnerable. At least those of us who take the time to invest energy, emotion, and care into scribing. Whereas I continue to blog about the idiocy of blogging. There's a conclusion to draw involving anti-matter or evil dopplegangers, but I can't put my finger on it. I sometimes think I am my evil twin, and there's a nice me out there somewhere. I wonder if he can write.