Doing the Work

I leave early for work to 1) beat traffic and 2) get to the coffee shop so I have an hour and a half to write. Today I woke up with a massive, stomach-turning headache. I didn’t want to be in bed but I left my house too early – the coffee shop wasn’t even open. I sat in my car, listening to music. I got breakfast at McDonald’s. When I finally got down to business I didn’t write any more than I normally do. Three pages in my journal then five hundred words of the novel, where I wrote some scenes of a breakup. It’s not the most fun thing I’ve ever written but it’s telling the story, which is what I need to do to finish.

Ted Bundy documentary – maybe for the first time I heard that familiar refrain “But he seemed so normal” as what it really is: white/class/male privilege at its most insidious. The fucking shit that dude got away with astounded me. How much do I get away with as a person who as access to a lot of the same privileges? What kind of shit do I not have to deal with on a daily basis?

Above: the joy of discovering a great Abba track you’ve never heard before, followed by the pain of having it obsessively run through your head for hours on end.

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