Tomorrow I Must Work on the Book, Because July is Coming

And when July arrives, the days really do begin to dissolve like a marshmallow in acid. I haven't written any new sections of the book in about a week. Three days of that was spent in Indiana with my mom. Tomorrow is the day I must grind away at this keyboard. I plan to do that part of the day and go through my pile of little notes I've written down here and there, on napkins, bits of paper, the back of fortune cookie messages. They were all things I wanted to include in the book, so I need to wrangle those like the shy parakeets they've become, waiting in the canvas bag where I've stuck them. I'll report back tomorrow as to whether or not I got this done. And whether or not anyone is reading this doesn't matter, since reporting back to myself is the most terrible thing. Or good thing. More often, terrible.