1. The list of things I didn’t do this weekend that I wanted to do is annoyingly long and indicative of the mental rut I’ve been in lately.
2. On the positive side, I somehow got a little bit of writing done and any time we get to spend two full days relaxing at home without interruption is a good thing.
3. This coming Sunday is Father’s Day, my fourth, and it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to actually being a father. Not a sperm donor with screwed up priorities, but an actual “Father.”
4. Being a “Father” is an intimidating thing. I fully understand how it can break someone not ready for it. It’s cowardly and I don’t condone it, but I can understand it.
5. While it’s the most expensive city in the US, New York City is only 12th in the world. Buenos Aires and Johannesburg are among the least expensive. Remind me why we live here again?
6. When you catch yourself indulging in thoughts of finding hidden portals to other worlds, and you’re giving it serious consideration as if it were a possibility you could perhaps coerce into being, it’s time to start writing more consistently because you’re probably on the verge of a nervous breakdown.