And so it begins.

Despite my prolific attempt to garner an audience six months ago, I
was rapidly overcome by a bad case of writers block.

For a while I put it down to just being too busy. Then I foolishly read
some article ( probably a blog ) that put forward the point that people
who wrote blogs were just on a catharsis trip and using it as some form
of therapy.

So I stopped for fear of being labeled a self indulgent looney.

Then I got all caught up in the facts that my rants were "too long" but
brevity didn't give me the literary freedom that I required.

But recently I realised that it is because that just not a lot of
interesting crap happens in late summer. Fall, autumn, beltane or whatever
you want call this time of year. It is a quiet time where we all just get
shit done and don't bitch about it.

Of course, I'm realising all this in hindsight. Silly season is kicking
in and I'm in the middle of it

Tonight, I'm doing my best to stay one step ahead of a bartender who plans
to keep me liquored up, while outside the rain has stopped, the
temperature has dropped and the forecast is for snow. ( Sounds like a
line from a country and western song)

Tomorrow is the day before thanksgiving and I have to fly ( sounds like
the chorus ). So I've had to deal all day with people saying things like

"Hope you get out before the blizzard comes"

Fokkers

This is going to suck. I know it is. Tomorrow I well get up to three feet
of snow, dig myself out of the hotel and spend all day in a departure
lounge next some loser from Michigan who has had a personality bypass
and a screaming case of halitosis. He will try to keep me entertained
with stories of his hockey days while I make every possible phone call I
can in the hopes of getting the fuck out of dodge

Then, just as the sky clears and our ground-hold is lifted, I will be
unable to get the phone number of the supermodel who has being trying to
get my attention all afternoon because my PDA has tanked and my phone is
sans battery.

Been there, done that, still have the scars.

But at least I'm prepared. Start low, finish high.