The Black Dog….again

It’s not worth writing much when the Black Dog settles in. She has come to sit a spell and has actually been here for a couple of days. I’m pretty miserable at this point and it is generally speaking a kind of occurrence with me. It used to happen predictably and thank God, it doesn’t anymore. I cannot predict when it will come. It’s been a while, actually.

The fact is, if I write too much, it will be morose and superscillious, I can see no good coming from detailed explanations. Summer is an odd time–and thank God, for the first time in 17 years, I’m doing something I absolutely want to do with my life and that is writing on a regular basis for the paper and for some publications. It’s enough that I’m actually making fairly decent summer-time money at it and that makes me happy. It’s the number one reason I’m looking forward to waking up in the morning right now–I get to do some reporting. The rest of the stuff the day has to offer doesn’t interest me in the slightest.

Egad–that’s morose enough. Onward.

Posted in Work/writing life