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This working from home thing is having a negative influence on my life. My realm of forced contact shrunk significantly three months ago when I quit my office job. I'm no longer stuck going out to lunch in a blank town I have to drive 45 minutes to with an acquaintance. There are days and weeks in which I only come into contact with a small subset of family and neighbourhood friends, people I enjoy being around. It's a beautiful thing and I wouldn't swap it for a shot at the NHL. Well, I'd have to think about that one but the impossibility of the latter certainly makes the claim easier.

Trying to write is art not science. It can't be done in the lab. It demands a pallette, a backdrop, a muse. It asks to be shaken up. I change notebooks, different shapes and sizes of paper. Ok, I'm fairly consistent on notebook choices but I do mess it up from time to time.

I write in different spots, coffee shops, home, breakfast joints, pubs. I need that guy with the loose facial hair to walk in with his sport coat barely covering his superman t-shirt. Him and his lady accomplice giving away their non-regular status by ordering off the menu. Cripes, never order breakfast off the menu at the apollo. It's insulting to Cathy. Just describe what you want. Head to the bookshelf if you need to order by numbers with no substitutions.