Plus I Have a Headache

So the weird thing about having a 70 hour a week job where you spend a lot of time waiting for stuff to come in is that despite the fact that you could use the time to work on the 30 or so story ideas you have...you don't.

Why? I think it's because for me writing, at least at its initial stages is a fairly private thing. I want/need a few minutes alone to work the stuff out and I can't have folks looking at me like I'm crazy when I get up and start talking out dialogue to see how it sounds.

So yeah, I guess more ideas and less execution for awhile longer.

Still, Chicago is full of awesome real life story bits. For example just a few weeks ago I saw a guy in a wheelchair with new expensive shoes. Now of course these things looked new, he never gets to use them. But they were very nice and very expensive and it got me thinking...why bother? Were they a gift? Were they actually not that expensive but the pristine shine of unuse made them seem so? And then...bam! You catch the morning scent of washed and perfumed bodies piling out of a train on a Monday and realize that collectively its actually almost nauseating and viola...new idea.