I am not in a rush this morning.
An unusual circumstance for me.
Most often, I'm hustling out of the house around 7:15. That puts me at my desk at just before 8. Which gives me time to write this blog and knock off an assignment or two before the day gets too chaotic.
But today, I have casting downtown and I don't have to be there until 10:15.
I could have gone into the office. But I decided to have another cuppa and spend a little quiet time with Whiskey.
For the last 52 minutes I've been trying to write something in this space. But nothing is coming.
I thought about writing on the NFL's decline in viewership. I thought about writing about how impossible it is for me to watch the World Series.
In fact, I went onto YouTube and found an old recording of the great baseball announcer Red Barber announcing a 1952 game pitting the Brooklyn Dodgers against the New York Giants.
I thought about comparing the broadcast then to the broadcast now. And seeing if I could draw some conclusions.
But that felt all-too nostalgic. And I'm trying not to wallow in the past, especially when I prefer it.
I rejected both those topics.
I thought about harping on some petty indiscretion I suffered at work, or some instance of banality.
But doing so felt mean and petty.
So here I am, with no place I have to run to and nothing to write about.
I'll seeya tomorrow.