Today’s Word Count (actual/goal): 1020/1000
Total Word Count So Far (after edits, all days included, blah-blah): 8262
I found these garlic parmesan walnuts that make me go nuts. They’re really helping me power through longish sessions at my desk, which are starting to resemble intense Inquisition-style interrogations, not because of the writing or even any spiritual or existential crises, but more because this cheap-ass office chair I’m sitting in just digs into the outer portions of my ass, those areas that make you wonder if it’s ass or hip, you know? Apparently I’ve got the quarantine ass, and a lovely extraneous bed pillow has not helped.
The writing continues on, goes well. I made a head grow on an old-fashioned reel lawn mower—in the story, of course, haven’t found that real-life spell yet—so that’s a good time.
I’ve been reading Nausea by Sartre and I thought I’d connect with it more, really empathize with the narrator, but no. He is nauseous about existence, not saturated fats and too much queso. Writing’s good though. Might read A Clockwork Orange next, keep things light.
We shall meet again, compatriots.
