I’m reading Roz Savage‘s book Rowing the Atlantic, about her journey… well, rowing the Atlantic Ocean. It’s a pretty aptly named book, really. The Cheerleader I Work For recommended it to me, as he felt it may be good for me to read a book that could be a similar style to my own.

I don’t even really know what my style is! Is it Roz’s? Is it Kevin “The Water in Between” Patterson’s? I have no idea… I think it’s one of those ‘just do it’ kind of things. It’ll all fall into place, and so there’s no need to worry about a “style” as long as I write honestly, and with the same relaxed ease that I know I’m capable of.

Too much thinking, not enough producing. It’s like my brain is in one of those meetings at work that everybody hates going to. You know, the one where you waste two hours and then end up deciding to meet again to discuss what you just wasted two hours discussing. And the muffins weren’t even worth it! Stupid meeting muffins. Always sucking you in with their delectable aroma, yet disappointing you with their “I’m From Costco and You Just Bought 120 of Me” taste. Why can’t there be cupcakes at meetings? Cupcakes, and mini cheesecakes, and fruit salads, and brownies with ice cream… I’d go to a meeting that had a buffet like that.

My brain needs to stop having meetings, and start letting itself work like it’s capable of.

I need to produce pages, not excuses.

I need to produce cupcakes, not Costco muffins.

What the hell was I talking about? Where am I? Are you my mother? Hello? Anyone? Ohhhh, look… muffins!

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