Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Under the Gun

      So here I sit, at 6:07 pm on a Tuesday night.  I have to leave for bowling in about twenty minutes.  I am enjoying bowling, but ever since the onset of daylight savings time, I have to walk into the bowling alley in the light, and that just sort of seems wrong.  I mean, during the middle of the winter I was happy with walking inside a building with virtually no windows.  But now, as the weather turns nice seriously early in the season, and it's bright and light, something about descending into the flourescent cave just doesn't jive for me.  Anyway, that is where I will have to go, into the cave like I just said, and I have to leave for that around 6:30.
     So what does that have to do with you?  Well, Company, that's a pretty good questions.  What it has to do with you is that I feel a tremendous pressure to make something happen post-wise before then.  I don't absolutely HAVE to get one done but I feel as if I do, and twenty minutes is fine but it's not exactly forever when you are trying to put together an interesting and coherent blog post.  Hell, most nights it takes me longer than that just to figure out what I want to do, let alone to do it.
     I am under the gun.  Under pressure, and I don't know what to do.  I am drawing blanks, and even my tried and true system of just regurgetating an interesting news event is failing me.  I am freaking out a little bit, and I sort of feel like someone who has just fallen off the rapidly sinking Titanic and is thrashing around trying to find a piece of wreckage to hold on to, or something like that.  Like I would know what that would feel like.  I've never been on the Titanic.
     I have been on the Miles Standish, which is my kayak.  And I will be on it again soon.  Did you like that abrupt change of subject?  That's just how my mind is flowing today.  I am going to take it out: I have found a place where there is a break in the ice opened up at a boat launch, and I am there.  How do you feel about that?  It's going to be cold, but it's going to be neat.  I will end up on top of the ice at one point, and I sort of hope that someone has a camera around.  Maybe the newspaper.
     Anyway, I just don't know what to do while I am under the gun.  I can't think of something to write and my time is almost up.  What will I do?  Shit.  Looks like I just managed to spit out a blog post for you.  I'm sneaky like that, aren't I?

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