I’m back from rock climbing. Got home about ten minutes ago. After getting lost on the ride home that added a funny — read; my friend prank-called this Chinese place for a straight twenty minutes until they stopped picking up the phone — extra half an hour to the drive, I’m home. And writing.
And it reminds me; write in the fucking morning. When I write in the morning, it’s great. Words flow. Not all the time, but most of the time. I have the hours, the solitude, and the peace to write. And I’m not worried about it for the rest of the day.
I know when my best time for writing is, and I still don’t do it. Which is dumb as hell.
This is a reminder — write at your best time. For most people, it’s morning. Just dig in and fucking do it.