Let's see. I have nine weeks ahead of me. What can I do in nine weeks? I'm afraid of setting goals cos I tend to let whole days slide. Like today. I was determined to get something done today yesterday but so far I've slept through most of the morning and half the afternoon. I need something more concrete. Like, tomorrow morning at nine, I shall make my way to X and get A, B and C done. This is me writing after twenty-six barren days. I just can't seem to gather my wits around me long enough to compose a paragraph. Even now, I am kinda confused as to what I'm writing about. Maybe I'll talk about fish. Or the G-20 summit in London. Is that REALLY London? I've not seen crowds that big or that angry since Bush, Jr. visited a few years back. So far, all the pictures I've seen are angry mob scenes and world leaders posing with the Queen. I think we'll be in this recession for a while. Oh, no... blank again. I am not opinionated to write at length about anything. Let's face it. The drugs have really made me dumber than... no good simile. Sigh. I'm in a rut. God help me. I need to feel inspired. The sweltering heat is melting my brain. Am I gonna publish or junk this? Sigh, I'll let this be a living record of just how bad a funk can get.