So, as it turns out, I am not so great at writing a weekly column when the editor is myself.
I thought I would do well with this self-imposed deadline, but no. I do well with self-imposed things sometimes. Self-imposed wine drinking? Check! Self-imposed sleeping in on Saturday mornings for my health? If you insist! Self-imposed shopping at Banana Republic for sweaters to protect myself against the frigid San Fran summer? Ah, well, if I must.
I also excel at external deadlines. For example, that one time I had a weekly column for an entire year. I did well with that. Or when someone says “come to my man fortress for I have fun things planned for us, and also, remember to NOT get off at the sketchy BART station!” I always do come over, and always do not get off at the sketchy BART station.
But this self-imposition?
Not so much.
Ergo, I would just like you all to know that I am alive. And I am working on a little project for all of you.
And for now, that’s enough.
