Well, day three of my effort to journal through what, according to Biblical sources, should be the last 730 days of my life -- and I'm fairly dropping with exhaustion. Not from having done much today -- well, I did go to the gym, for one of my lighter-than-usual 'Sweeney Todd' workouts -- but just from... gravity? I can't tell.
But I think that, in an uncharacteristic act of charity toward myself, I"m going to let this mini-entry stand, for the time being anyway, as today's contribution to the effort. It's hard enough to write while awake -- writing in my sleep is guaranteed disaster. (I know, because I recently tried writing an email, while is a similar state of near-torpor, and the next day, on reviewing what I'd written, I found that the closer I got to the end, the less sense anything made, until it looked rather like gibberish, or the result of someone leaning on the keyboard several times.
Life is already too short. I'm going to take my medication and go upstairs and lie down, and see what happens next. If it's anything interesting, I"ll tell you tomorrow. If I can...
© 2014, Walter Zimmerman.
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