Kookie, Kookie, lend me your comb

March experiment—day twenty-two— If I’d taken time earlier to characterize my day, I would’ve declared that my experiment had broken down, but now I’m not sure, and that’s why I go a bit mad at this point in the exercise. Has the imposed mental structure fallen apart, or has it been absorbed into my state of being? Has the regimen lost “front of mind” status only because I’ve encouraged it to become a foundational habit of situational awareness and time management? Great Scot! Can I not distinguish between failure and success? This must be why I tend to go a bit mad at this point in the exercise, or did I say that already?

Today’s sight bite— The fleshy, white thighs of my new client, as he sits on our couch—c-l-i-c-k—explaining auto-security remotes with typical enthusiasm, but his shorts are alarmingly—short!

Tomorrow— Hit the scheduled milestone and keep plugging, in preparation for the round-trip to Indianapolis…

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