Today there had to be a road trip to fetch my microphone from storage. It wasn't in the house and in the event that I have to work from home, I had to find it. In a moment of idiocy I had put it in storage while packing for the move. The LAST possible thing I'd intended to do. Moron.
After storage, a quick run to the store. And thoughts of how it could be a long while before we can make a trip like it again. Anxiety was high.
So I came home and punked out while working on the new novel.
Accomplished enough to be happy for the day, roughly 2500 words.
Found this in storage, too.
Memories of my first band, mid-1980s. Learning the bass while Chris Hart learned the keyboards. Spending our time mixing Falco and listening to Steve Taylor and Stryper.
Scattered thoughts tonight.