Here's what it is: I'm in the middle of another essay, this one for a friend's book, so I'm writing a lot. (Come to think of it, I'm not certain you can call what I'm trying to write is an essay.) And when I'm not writing, I'm thinking about writing the "essay", this blog and other things that are rather like writing.
(A reprise of a work I made in 1993, because it fits now.)
And reading, for the writing (two books) and for the pleasure of the writing I'm reading. And then seeing gets in the way again.
P.S.
But just for a little while.
Fin
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