I got a lot to do, of course. Another unfuckening of the house. Another Instant. Another 500 words. Another TAZ flash fanfiction.
Maybe I really am writing like I'm running out of time. Given the way the world is increasingly funked up, headed for assorted disasters - do you blame me?
I only have this life and I'm past my family average halfway point. Barring accidents and whatnot, I have my own lifetime left. Less than that.
If nothing else, I should approach Asimov in volume alone. And therefore, through that volume, notoriety. Via that? Perhaps some capital-N Notice.
I may get published by loads of people asking, "Why isn't this nerd published yet?" and out come the retroactive reprints.
I can dream.
It's taken me THREE HOURS to write this because distractions. I must wriggle on with what passes for my life.