Member-only story
[Title Unknown]
I’ve nothing to write about today.
Three months into my stupid write-every-day Medium project and the barrel is dry. The tank empty. The shelves bare. The bacon cooked.
I’ve been staring at this image below for the past 45 minutes wondering if it’ll go away.
But it’s still there.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My routine hasn’t changed for the past three months. I get up, I eat oats with milk and nuts. Then I sit at my desk with a very sweet and very black coffee looking at this view.
If my life was a remake of Groundhog Day, that’s the view Bill Murray would see instead of that tasteless hotel room in Punxsutawney.
That tape measure, orange notebook (empty), and pumpable bottle of fly spray aren’t there for show. They’re always there.
I’m not messy. I’m just terrible at putting things away. But at least I always know where everything is. There’s a joy in that.
