To write or not to write
The easiest thing to do is to not write. Anyone who writes for a living or for fun knows what I'm talking about. I'm about 50 pages into a novel called "The Five-Minute President". I wrote those 50 pages in about three weeks. That was two months ago. Last night, I plotted out the rest of the story. I'm hoping that between now and the end of the year, I can double the number of pages.

Here's what I've done in the past couple months instead of working on my story:

* Watched a lot of TV, including an inordinate amount of basketball, C-Span, and professional wrestling.
* Consumed massive quantities of food. Two nights ago, I sat down to watch TV and ate about 35 of those little oatmeal cookies with frosting on them. Aieeee!
* Started paying attention to the random hairs that sprout up when you're pushing 40. The worst are the nose hairs and the random back hairs that pop up with no other hairs anywhere in sight. This morning, I noticed a hair coming out of the side of my neck that was at least an inch long. It looked like one of the bolts on the side of the Frankenstein monster's neck.
* Watched my son learn to crawl. This one was worthwhile, obviously, but now that he's crawling, the terror alert in the Davey household is on orange. His current mission is to attack all the Christmas presents and try to open them up. Good boy!

I've got next week off from work. So theoretically, unless I start making sculptures out of old toenail clippings, I should be able to get some work done on my book. Stay tuned.