My best ideas appear to come from three places: windshield therapy, the shower, or first thing in the morning.

So, why am I not writing? I have things to write. I have plenty to say. I even have an audience now—who looks forward to everything I write.

And a few who pick it apart.

Tell me I haven’t arrived.

Okay, I haven’t been on many drives. Granted, I had some brilliant ideas while flying from Houston to Minneapolis, and even more on the drive home from the Twin Cities. Yet, while driving, I am lucky to make notes in a file on my phone. No cohesion. Simply random thoughts. Yes, some are brilliant. Yes, some are shit.

Yet, my mind is in a truly different place when I look at them later. Immobile. With things to do. More on things to do in a minute.

And since that trip, I am not traveling. Nor driving. I will go. Tuesday. Possibly Monday, but defintely Tuesday.

Then, there are the mornings. As I have been examining my behavior, finding grace, and exploring my own shadows, I have taken advantage of the mornings being my best time. Yet, shadow work is… exhausting. And requires a nap. Occasionally a day drink, but I find I am drinking less and feeling more. A good thing, no?

Writers never refuse a drink, so time will tell.

So, what about the shower?

I am back on my press-up regimen. And salad and sadness™. And I find I am trending European. Conserving water. Showering less.

It’s not like I have a gland problem. I don’t stink.

And while I’m incredibly fond of a girl (or three), she doesn’t see me—nor smell me—enough for this to be the slightest concern.

Here I sit. Supporting bad habits. Social media again. And movies. And music.

Air Force One is better than I remembered. And I cannot get enough of Johannes Brahmes. And Kim Carnes.

Yet, all of these experiences have value. Even the distractions from the notifications on my iPhone. Even, if only to remind me I need to limit the distractions from the notifications on my iPhone.

Then, I recall another song from a dream (I cannot be the only one, can I?). “One,” by Three Dog Night. Actually a cover, from Harry Nilsson. Which version do you recall?

There are so many distractions. And I’m failing to get the work done. However, I am losing weight and getting my press-ups in daily. And I continue collecting notes. For the eulogy. For the novel. For the job application.

Yet, can they stay unorganized… forever?

Of course, they can. At least until I finish the Whitney Houston biopic.