My cell has a camera, but 2005 called me up to say my phone was obsolete. I have no money for anything but my free with a subscription plan Sanyo Kyocera II, and I haven’t had a camera since Black Sunday 2008, the Sunday after Thanksgiving when I came home from work and saw someone did some Christmas shopping with my stuff.
If this was a real blog, I would have splatterd it with photos of Lopez. At least the image of him on the deck wearing the African beaded yarmulke from Ethiopia used as my Facebook avatar. (I attempted to import it to this blog, but it only comes up as a thumbnail.) Which means if this was a real blog, I would have the money to buy a camera so I can take extra photos of my dog in order to splatter his image all over my portal of the net. And if I had the money for a real camera, you know I would have the money for a real computer. One that doesn’t erase paragraphs as a sign that it’s a bit overheated.
It can’t be that hard, right? It’s not like I haven’t written before. It’s not like I don’t want to write again. It’s not like I wouldn’t trade my 40 hours in a cubicle at [ACME]*, Inc for the opportunity to utilize my narrative skills as a means to make money. It’s not like I didn’t come to this town 12 years ago with the objective of finishing a 4th and Final draft of what was supposed to be my first book. I didn’t get into a position like that without the discipline of repeatedly sitting down to write on a blank page or screen.
As they say in baseball, you don’t walk out of a slump.