our Dish connection

Pop is taking over the big room for another over-the-phone surgery for our Dish connection. So annoying.

It's not like he has anything else to do. This must be a little fun for him. Or am I over-reading that? Being too self-centered? I think there's a little something to it, though. But I don't doubt he would be happier if the damn thing would just work like it is supposed to. He does pay over a hundred dollars a month for TV.

"So, you've brought the laptop to your room."

I'm just trying to make the most of it. I see no point in having to sit next to him as he talks to the Dish tech and fiddles with the TV.

thought that was Sammy yowling

I thought that was Sammy yowling at the door. He hasn't been here all day and should be starving. But it was a fire or police siren. They can sound a lot alike.

Mr. Accomplishment

It's been a long time since I've been under a thousand images.

"Mr. Accomplishment."

Lately I have been despairing a little more over ever finding something to do that will feel truly meaningful.

"What's new?"

That I have even started feeling this way about my book-blogging. Remember, I was thinking this was my final answer when it came to projects that I can lose myself in for the rest of my life.

"Are you thinking about stopping?"

Not without a solid alternative. I just have doubts now. I'm feeling more hollow.

"You must be flirting with some other idea."

Original writing. Doing my own serial fiction.

"That's definitely not new, except perhaps for the 'serial' part."

I know. And it is not that I am feeling new confidence in my abilities. I know that my imagination is still shit, will always be shit. I don't think I can write a convincing porn scene! It's just that when I am back at the drawing board, back on square one, this fanciful notion is always there.