morning

I'm listening to a live recording of Müm with me feet up on my desk and my keyboard on my lap. I've finished the last of my coffee. Now it's time to write. Of course, I don't want to.

Outside of my window I can see the top part of a tree and the sunlight on a neighbor's roof.

All I really have to do is polish what I've already written. And pick away at an outline.

I'd like to see Müm live in concert. I didn't realize they had so many acoustic instruments. I thought they were purely electronic. They're from Iceland.

I'm a writer. I spend most of my time not doing what I do, and feeling guilty about not doing it.

We're going to pick blueberries on Friday afternoon, after I go for a 13-mile run and have lunch with an investigator.

I think I can write now.

Here's the concert: