PROCESS; or, HOW TO MAKE THE MOST

the orange blossoms are blooming, and for four days now a delicious smelling veil over the low hanging stink of shit. a briefly intoxicating respite before the impending april shit storm. drink it in and forget that they're coming. even the yearly saga of christmas is just a distraction from the demands of the holidays of spring, and in the second week of january the city is already a well of inquietude, and not for remorse over already ruined resolutions but for the universal apprehension of holy week and the feria. the mushrooms on sunday afternoons in winter are giant balloons of anxiety. and now, already the third week of march and the fifth of lent 2012, it's get your work done or wait until may. but that doesn't always go as well as it might, because so much attention on wailing and wardrobes in this case isn't necessarily conducive to inspiration. and so...the march. and so march is forced.

but to work nonetheless. and up at...twelve-thirty, with every intention of starting -- starting with the intention to finish -- and making it brilliant.

but just like the night before, there are other things that come to mind, things that, if they don't necessarily need doing, might as well be done now. (there were already so many of them on the list the night before that it was impossible to sleep until six -- at which point they still hadn't all been done.)

for example, the floor will always need sweeping -- again. (and the mop seems to do more harm than good.)

the coffee is cold, and more needs making. and which of the cakes goes best with the coffee? one at least will need a glaze that will need to be matched with sparkling wines. so make another cake. but in the time that takes, another percolator of coffee will be cold.

with fresh cake and fresh coffee and clean floors, it should be possible to write. but the thing is that there are also facts that need checking, and on the way to the room where the wifi signal is stronger there's a mirror and there are other things to check.

tweeze nipples.

...sweep the floor.

it's impossible to concentrate after so much coffee. or after so much cake.

go running.

go to the store, because it's about to close and there is as little ready to eat in the kitchen as there was in the shower (besides cake).

writing is work. buy ingredients for a more challenging cake.

crumbs. sweep the floor.

do not make another percolator of coffee.

forcing it now is just going to make it turn out poorly.

if it's going to turn out poorly anyway, it might as well turn out poorly after some sleep. and there's more coffee after some sleep.

ice ankles.

notice the crumbs that are only visible in the natural morning light and sweep the floor.

more coffee.

it might turn out to be a crap article, but it's going to be a hell of a brunch.