I'm putting this off. I'm getting distracted. I turn my head every time the door opens. My article is due, not yet crafted. Unfocused, I feel I'm on opium.

Oh dear, oh my. I've been here for five hours but still I haven't left the seat I'm on. My hand touches a bug lamp with flowers. I look back at my doc, haven't begun. It's blank, white and the cursor, well, it blinks.

What I've got is much worse than fucking block even though that is what everyone thinks. I flex and crack back, I adjust my cock.

Getting comfortable is all in the heart. To finish really you just have to start.