4:15pm, progress is made

Making progress feels good. It might be the best feeling thing I can think of revealing right now. At least after weeks of stasis. Regress. Weeks of ideas running splat into walls, slowly, sticky, sliding ideas coming to rest in a glycerine puddle on the concrete floor of my brain. All used up, turned out, crumpled and vacuous from the start anyway. I peeled the layers of disguise away to realize that, they all turn out to be crap. This one will probably too. I just hope it has thicker skin than the others.

I’m sitting in Encore Café. I was here last night too, but not to make ideas. I’m here now to make ideas and to write them down on this computer. I enjoyed several cups of coffee, accidentally putting soy creamer in the first. That was a bummer. I just saw the ‘cream’ part and poured away, without a care in world.

Now I’m enjoying a late lunch of carrot-potato soup, garlic roasted potatoes, and a hefty turkey sandwich on a baguette with red onions, cucumbers, and herbed cream cheese. Rather spot on with my bottle of Stone IPA. They wouldn’t sell me a bomber of Runination to drink here. I says to ‘em, I says, “Well I can buy two 12oz bottles and drink those right?”

“Well, yes sir, but we can’t sell you the 22oz bottle to be consumed on the premises.”

This is when I kind of freaked out and shoved the fat girl who was ringing me up. She slammed into the wall and slid to the floor quite like my ideas although with more of a thud. It created a scene. Several bike hippies tried to contain me but I’m big and they’re not.

So I’m sitting here now in the corner eating my sandwich and drinking my beer and typing away on my laptop like nothing happened, everybody’s looking at me, the manager talking on the phone, probably with the police.

I should leave.