Buoyant Cacophony

It’s one of those mornings where everyone is on the phone. Single-sided narratives fill the air all around me, penetrating cubicle walls as if they aren’t there at all... You can’t help but overhear what’s said, but it’s surprisingly easy to not listen.

Feels like floating in rough water. Up and down. Currents rolling all around me.

Work has been busy lately. Feeling the crunch. Recent lack of excellence has prompted me to keep my eyes on my paper, instead of rolled into the back of my skull during official meetings.

     Time flies when you’re doing what you’re told.

Home time has also run by, although at different speeds with different propulsions. Mostly blank television fueled come-downs from the rigors or corporate work/waiting tables/baby chasing.

There’s been time for writing, but energy has not followed; the words haven’t found their way through yet.

I’m between novels, having finished Junichiro Tanizaki’s The Key.. still looking for something interesting to follow it with. A week or so ago I began thumbing through a novel called Waiting by Chinese author Ha Jin, but it never really took off for me, and it’s been sitting on my desk ever since.

Just.. kinda floating.

     more later.