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Not Waving, Drowning

It's the only good song on This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. Also applies to the last few days.

Headless chicken mode well and truly engaged. Too much to do, it's a wave crashing down from above. It all needs doing, in some order or other. And of course, as soon as that happens, my instinct for procrastination kicks into high gear. Barely even constructive, just plain old delaying tactics.

The beard, which I hadn't cut since before the new year, is now gone. As is the image of rugged manhood and five years from my apparent age.

...no. Enquiring about writing for Mage and writing graphic novel scripts is just more time wasting. Time to do something about it for a change.

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