Right off, I didn't write Tuesday night because pit crew's friend was in town & we went to Piece for pizza and beer, and then to Phyllis's Musical Inn for, er, Bushmills. And then ended the evening with writing I like my boyFRIEND on the chalkboard with my toes holding the chalk.
Tomorrow's entry, just so you know, is going to start "I didn't skate Monday night." Because MOD skate was moved to 9:00-11:00 PM, nobody wanted to go that late. More about that tomorrow.
I did write, sort of, on Monday night, and then I wrote like I was serious last night, "sort of" for this blog and "serious" about this next screenplay, which is going to be about zombies. I don't know what effect the screenplay is going to have on the blog. I suspect that I'm going to have to give up blogging, though I suppose I might shift into exquisitely blogging about my screenplay writing process. How can that be more dire than the minutiae of how I'm eating and exercising. If there's a prize for Best Documented Weight Loss in a Five Pound Range, I'd like to win that prize. Except that I wouldn't. Like to. Well also, win. It's not that well-documented. In any case, I do want to refine my writing process and I'd do that the way I refine all my processes, by writing it out, and at the same time, I feel that writing about eating grounds you in the world and fear that writing about writing is going to be like falling down a well. Which is sort of a stupid fear, people have written about writing and I've read them—
