I am conducting an experiment that's driving me crazy so far but that I think is working. Normally I write longhand a lot -- stuff that isn't part of anything, more like diary stuff, logging what is going on in my life, how I feel, etc. Right now I'm making myself not write longhand at all unless it's a part of this new and very cruel story I'm working on. Everything has to be in the same notebook, sequential, and in the story. Since I've implemented this rule, not only do I have a lot of the story done, I'm also doing a lot of emailing and bill-paying and drawing, things I can do instead of writing longhand when I feel the impulse to do the diary thing. Writing in this new blog is also a by-product of that.
Weird fucked-up shit is happening in my building where I live at. Yesterday my super, whom I've known ten years or so, broke into someone's apartment to rob them. He got arrested and is now moved out of the place, and our front door locks have been changed. This is the latest in a string of extremely unfortunate, inconvenient, sad events that have happened in my building very suddenly. I'm not fearful for my safety, but the whole thing is eerie and is creeping me out. I'm tired of seeing cop cars outside my door all the time. I want something funny or otherwise delightful to cheer me up.