* I don't have time to stop and tarry, so I'll be quick about this.
* Revised a short story today called "On the Cable," which was written back in November or December. It's for Longer on the Inside: Very Short Fictions of Infinitely Human Lives. Redid the beginning of the Sam Cooke book. Wrote 3000 words of the Scrooge book. Wrote some bad people. Walked six miles, did ten hill sprints, despite the ground being covered in snow.
* There's nothing to eat here but one of those rotisserie chickens and two oranges. I should forgo chicken--poultry causes the cancer.
* Lying in bed last night, I composed more of "Eede Upstairs." It will be a "Fitty," a "Girls of the Nimbus." I know these people who are not me. They are not me but I am them. I know the power and the beauty of their story and it makes me cry in that power and beauty before I have committed a single formal word to the page. That is what I am dealing with. That is what I have.
* Keep going. Fuck these people. Have faith. Believe in your outcome. The day is coming.