do you know what its like to run out of gas

the struggle ive had over this pandemic isn’t like any that ive read from anyone else.

im stuck. im empty. but not in a zen way.

my job is to pour out the good stuff.

but i sit down at the keyboard and my mind goes off in a million places.

i smoke but that doesnt help.

id drink but amber loves it that i dont drink.

my music isn’t inspiring.

my hands are literally telling me to stop.

but heres the saddest thing. my lovely friend has hired me to do some side work

and in this economy who wouldn’t accept that?

and i love the work, and she is a sweetheart to work for.

but i can barely do what im supposed to do.

i cant even with the extra.

i cant watch movies.

i cant do anything except organize baseball cards.

yesterday amber asked if i had any baseball cards for her niece.

i said hand me that black binder.

and i flipped a few pages and there was a card of a little girl who had thrown out the first pitch at ball parks around the country.

and a few pages later was a nun who had also thrown one over the plate.

i put them in plastic sleeves and she said

how on earth do you know where everything is?

i said its the only thing i know right now.

my mind is in lock down.

i’ll write two pieces for los angeleno next week.

but the second one will be a struggle.

is this it for me?

do i need adderall?

do i need subtractall?

am i closed on Thursday

do i need a longer vacation deep into the desert.

this time absolutely no phone. no social media. just books. just paper. just two pens.

just one pretty girl. just 7 pizzas. just 37 mexicokes. just 4 gallons of rocky road.

just my imagination

once again.