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boot descends

Wonderful weekend catching up from and trying to get over last week, sleeping, playing with the kids, sleeping some more, and now I'm faced with a deadline -- page proofs of Into The Ravine by Friday morning. No extensions. Some people are motivated by thoughts of a wonderful distant future. I am motivated by fear of a boot up the rear end in the next few minutes. Until I see the boot, I don't run. In fact, it goes deeper than that. My inertia is in my marrow. See, an extension wouldn't do me any good. If time stopped for everyone but me, and I was suddenly magically gifted with a two-week extension, I'd probably take a week or ten days off, and then look over my shoulder, see the boot descending, and get busy. I don't look far ahead. It may have something to do with my short-sightedness. It may be philosophical: like Mr Wright says, Hard work pays off sometime in the future; laziness pays off now.

I wonder if I can get a marrow transplant? Get rid of my crippling inertia, replace it with good healthy ertia. Problem might be to find a donor.


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