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July 7, 2012
Small bites of oatmeal, peaches and cream, dripping somewhat in warm milk. Behind, the blinds move in and out to the sound of a neighbor's wind chimes. A movie is playing about an insomniac who, while working nights in a supermarket, discovers he has the ability to freeze time. It would be great to be able to just stop the clock when I feel I'm not being productive--when I'm not writing, not networking, not painting. The spoon clanged against the bowl as I scooped oats from the sides. Making sure to rinse completely so any residue doesn't become concrete.