Things weren’t going my way late last night. I was
n’t hard enough hard on myself since I knew my Camp Nano wasn’t going well. Hopes of actually adding an ending to the story have all but dissipated. I needed a break of sorts to cope with it.
I took a nature walk past the time cabins were supposed to be on lockdown. As leaves and twigs crunched beneath my feet like so much generic bran cereal, I tried to empty my head. it kind of worked, but now I had a song running through my head:
but it’s by Julie Andrews and not by John Coltrane a Coldplay track, but Jay-Z decided to dominate it [no complaints].
Losing track of – my tracks, I saw a strange frame of a structure. Cellar doors? Not remembering any of my horror movie training, I decided to give it a peek.
Now I had to hand it to a certain forgetful girl. At least it’s what I was hoping the situation was. One Phyllis O’Brien had a primary school style of slate – the assumed owner was due to a name across the top. I took it as a sign…especially since I keep spare chalk in a pocket. One of those ‘in case I get lost’ kind of things.
So I scribbled. Not much of an artist, and still worrying about my summer endeavor, I scribbled and scribbled. I basically number crunched…and then I felt a tiny bit less worried…
So I need to focus on 2k a day. Stay on the ball slate, and I’ll be great. Yes – it’s 1869 for the moment, but I’d rather overshoot than undershoot. Those who know my favorite NSFW adage can vouch on that one.
Of course I had to put the slate back where I found it; since I feared some One-Eyed Willie repercussion otherwise.
The Superbowl may be out of reach for me. But why talk NFL? Let’s talk college, and go NCAA on this perspective. Just worry about getting to ANY bowl game at this point. Yeah, that shift of view works. Even if I don’t finish, I can show the concept cover of what could of been.