Done

It's too nice to stay inside today. I'm going out. Don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm going out. Maybe the park and the guitar shop if it's still there. I'm done trying to write anyway. I don't want to write tonight or cram it in before church. I am going to write 250 words and be done. This is Spring Break. It is a "Staycation" for me. I never go anywhere. My car got charged $5 by the Kansas Turnpike while its remains were being towed to the parts company in Kansas City, and I now have a new tag for my new car but I never go anywhere. I don't even go to Lawrence. I could, but that's usually something you do with a friend. I can't believe all the Christians badmouthing Israel. It's just insane. I don't care what news they're hearing or where they're getting it. The Bible says "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem," not, "Accuse Israel of killing children." I am not going to say another word about it. I don't know why I worry about why I don't write fiction anymore. I hardly even read fiction. I thought I wanted to read "The Aviator's Wife," historical fiction about Anne Morrow Lindbergh, but I started reading it and just want to skim to find the story or the part that is going to engage me. I read that you should read two or three chapters of a book before you decide to abandon it. It's got such a groovy cover, I hate to abandon it, but for today I'm just...done.