My mind is powerpoint addled. Every day is a fantastically productive blur marked by unbroken chains of conference calls and conversations mostly unleavened by creativity. Most evenings I spend equally actively. Running to a showing of Pink Floyd's The Wall in the Castro theater or a farewell cum birthday cum Michael Jackson tribute party in a SoMa loft for a dear friend going away. A home showing followed by a sushi dinner. Faux-Walks for real causes in parks. Declined invites to a meteor shower viewing and weekend afternoon concerts because of prior commitments or dire exhaustion.
And amidst all this crazy-busyness somehow the growing sense that life is increasingly sluggish. Calls to Spanish tutorial schools and Writing courses never get placed. The realization of having missed gym again seems to hit only after I step out of the shower. Skipped Meditation sessions in favour of hops. Neglected blogs.
There were times when writing cleared the mind. I could try it again. Then again, an automated car wash couldn't wash away that cobweb that still clings to my Prius' side mirror.