Writing Myself Out of a Cave

Recently I fell sick. Once recovered, I found myself playing catch-up with work. Then more work came my way, most of it writing or tech-related and all of it was tedious stuff.

But I often find myself thinking about this space and pondering an entry, only to find I have nothing to say. Well, actually, I have a lot to say, but none of it’s related to the smutty stories or slutty reflections most any of my regular readers would expect from me. And that’s one of the limitations of this here blog: it’s designed for a certain kind of content and little else.

Hell – even this post and the last are off topic

But I feel a second wind coming on…Hmmm…’second?’… hell, at this point in my life, what number would be accurate? If it could be counted, I fear the number would contain at least six zeros.

Anyway, there remains a pile of work to complete, but I’m eyeballing an unfinished rough draft. The urge to jump on it after completing my ‘square’ work is certainly stronger than weariness that, recently, has won the day.

The trick is to write myself out of the spider hole and not use it as a way to crawl back in. So I’ll be doing that directly.

That and actively hunting down the designer of certain popular spreadsheet’s features – so I can set their home ablaze.

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