I don't know why, but as the day went on, I got sicker. All congested everywhere again. I mean totally. I blow my nose and the pressure goes through my ears. Worse is the chest situation. I've gone five full days without running stairs and I'm frustrated.
I'm also frustrated with what I didn't do this week. I need an honest week of doing nothing every waking moment but working and running stairs. There's no sense listing out what I must do when it would be better to list out what I've just done. I did fine tune the titles of a couple music books. For my own organizational purposes--and also a kind of commercial--I will devote a separate entry on here to my various music books. Those that are finished, those that are being done, those that I will do. I do this for everything. Fiction books. Film books. Sports books. Essay collections. Memoirs. Works of critical writings. So much is planned out that people have no idea about. That's the thing with me. I can have something planned and then just pick up and do it five years after. Twenty years after. I can go back to some story I've left sitting there for eighteen months and knock it out in a day or two. I know I'm going to do that. It never really goes away. When I write, there's no time like there is with other people. Everything is constantly with me. I've known people who think I'm not going to get around to something, who now know that I always get around to everything. You could never say I lack for focus, because there are new stories, pieces, and books constantly. I'm not here to leave a handful of books behind. I'm here to write hundreds of books. Of all kinds. It was good to get There Is No Doubt all sown up as a book. There's nothing to do on that one now save the copyediting when it's time. There's nothing to overhaul or revise. But I have a short list out of the long list of what really needs to be tended to at present. Then I just need to move systematically. Not stopping. As I knock things down, I create new things as I go, too. There's always new water coming into my seas.
Sent Just Like Them: A Piece by Piece to Becoming the Ultimate Thinking Person's Beatles Fan to a publisher.
My former mentee texted me that she was going to prom and to come out into the hall. She had told before she wasn't going so this was a surprise. So I did so she could show me her dress. I told her she looked beautiful--she did!--and I was a little soppy and took a photo and she gave me a hug. The dress looked like something one could have worn to a party in the 1920s. Very stylish. It was her mother's wedding dress, apparently. They grow up so fast! I am kidding. I was glad to see that she was going and to see her happy.
Facebook sent me a photo today of how I looked on this day six years ago. I sent it to a friend along with one this week as a compare and contrast. Six years ago at this time was right before I stopped drinking.
Anyway. Let's do better by a lot in the new weeks that starts tomorrow. And remember: one must be like Def Leppard and ask the important questions in life. Not just are you getting it, but are you Armageddon it. Well?
Sound the mantra: TFMANMWWGT