Monday

11:20                      Writing Practice                     46°  Boise

Got a phone call this morning, Steve Beck. That got me all off track and I'm just now sitting down to do my writing. Also, I have to pick up Rio from the airport soon. I haven't heard from him at all so I'm just assuming he's on the plane and will arrive on time. If not, I'll be waiting. Dang, I hate that. I should have gone over the return trip plan with him, but Pam and I have this down to such a fine art, I didn't even think of it.

So today is already fractured but I insist that there's still stuff to write about. For instance, I'm listening to a book on CD, How We Decide, about brain function. The PFC (pre-frontal cortex) can only deal with about 7 pieces of information at one time compared to the thousands of bits of information that are available moment to moment. And this is why I'm having trouble deciding what to write every day. Too much information. I have enough story to fill several books and yet I won't get to even one book if I can't decide where to begin and stick to a theme, pushing all other information or story bits to the side.

Last week, I started writing about the day I left my parent's house back in 1971. I got two paragraphs. Now today I want to write about the night I met John Sandknop in Waikiki. And yet I don't have time to concentrate because I know I'll be interrupted to go get Rio at the airport. It's hard enough just to make myself sit here and type. In fact, I've got time to go get my breakfast before he calls, I think I'll do that and then I'll be totally free all afternoon after that.

So, short day typing. But the day is young, more could still happen!