The people who sponsor the novel-writing frenzy i am supposedly participating in keep sending me e-mails to motivate my typing fingers. They are very sweet. My friends kindly ask about my progress and they too are sweet. I haven’t attempted to write for days and I am guilty. In the meantime I made it down to Hyde Park to visit my friend I haven’t seen in a bit, I went shopping with Thom, helped host a game night, practiced Thanksgiving cooking, ate, cleaned up, took some showers, planned for tomorrow’s day job, started going through my endless piles of mail, and downloaded some new music. Life quickly works to fill itself up. Creative endeavors take a lot of focus which life attempts to thwart. At least my life seems to. At least when I am laying in bed waiting to sleep I try and dream about episodes I might want to write about.