Just Once, A Star Trek Character Needs To Say, “We’re Screwed, Captain”*

*This title puts me in mind of a Bob The Builder satire I saw years ago: “Can we do it?” the chorus sings. “No, we’re fucked,” Bob answers.

My trainer-friend has me trying something new as I’m going into a month-long cardio phase: fasting 2 days a week.

Now, I know old-school monks and hermits and prophets all liked to fast for days, even weeks, at a time. No matter the religion, country or culture, they always said it cleared their minds and brought them closer to revelation.

Yeah, it brought them closer because they were delirious with hunger!

This is not fun…I hate my friend right now. Thankfully, however, I just wrapped up the last of the 48 hours of fasting. Common sense says I should go have a light lunch with a nice 2:1 protein to carb ratio. Grilled chicken and some quinoa, or maybe an open-face turkey sandwich on whole grain bread…

Fuck that.

I want a beer and I want a cheeseburger. And if someone gets in my way…well…cannibalism doesn’t sound all that bad right about now.

I like and respect my friend – and he knows me pretty damn well – but something tells me this whole plan of his isn’t gonna be too successful…

On another note, I’m living a Star Trek episode at the moment. I’ve been trying to work and write, but my shields are down to 18% and the warp drive is broken… I spent weeks “training” the regulars at my favored writing spot that having my ear-buds in meant my shields were up. It meant “leave me alone to write!”

That worked for quite a while. Crap, it worked for all of Wrath – or at least for the 90% I wrote in that taproom. People would come in, see me sitting with my iPad and my music, and just smile and wave, then proceed to ignore me until I was done.

ResistanceisFutileHaveaNiceDayNowadays, on the other hand? Yeah, some goddamned useless ensign reversed the polarity on the shields and those ear-buds aren’t doing shit. I’ll be sitting there, just getting into a flow for a particular scene, when a couple of folks will sit down and start talking directly to me.

The asshole in me wants to just ignore them and keep going, but the “civilized” human says I should pause the music and at least say hello.

Being civilized means I don’t get shit done, however. But if I ignore them and focus on the writing? That gets me branded as a “dick” by people I like. And, no, I don’t have an easy, pat answer for this. So far, all I can do is migrate to another taproom where I don’t know as many folks.

Great, so now I’m like a swarm of locusts – I go in, milk a place for everything it’s worth, then move on to greener pastures…?


Reason # 345677543 why writers drink too much.

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