Sailor Jerry. 1/31/2021

 I used to be able to buy a single pour of Jerry and a Diet Coke for three dollars. Apparently, along with vocal mourning from my wallet, that's no longer the case. An average bill of fifteen dollars doubled itself overnight. No warning: "Hey, I know you're a regular, and you've become accustomed to a certain number, but uh, It's gone up." I didn't mind the tab; I went out to drink, but it's the principle. Let me know beforehand. 

Anyway,

I'm concerned. Now that I'm back at work, I've struggled to write. It's been six days since I've written this blog and three days since I've written my book. My goal of 5 days a week, 1500 words on those days, must be met with no excuses. I must be thirsty and desperate to reach the destination I've been dreaming about since I graduated high school. This has been my problem since my 20s. The passion was there, sure, but the drive? 

I used to wait for future Jason to finish things when I was young. Now, as I look behind me, I'm pissed that past Jason didn't do the things he should have because I'm currently suffering. Sigh.

Woe is me! My life is a tragedy and is in its second act. Luckily, the second act can be as long as you need it. If you know anything about literature, there can always be more than three acts, especially if you're writing a juicy drama with a protagonist as fantastic as me.