I’m not going to the gym even though I should. Today cried for the gym: cool and sunny; meeting-free after 2pm; ahead at work. And yet here I sit, typing without exercising; I have no excuse.

I’m forcing this writing. I find myself in that awkward position where I want to write but I have nothing to say. I need to have a fallback position for this time. That or just struggle, write empty words, and hope I eventually touch upon something of interest.

The ants, mostly of the winged variety, have increased. They’re getting sneakier, one almost got away from me before I out waited her, and she showed herself from under the refrigerator. It’s still too early to claim victory, but the tide seems to be turning. Worst places I found ants include, in the far side of the shower this morning (I decided against the vacuum and killed the ant in a mash of tissues); on the couch this evening; flying from the dining room area down toward my face while I sat on the couch. I managed to move out of its way as it flew (badly) and landed on the couch. It freaked me out.

I’ve thought again of the goblin story based on Native Americans. I’ve cracked open my first Native American book. We’ll see if I get further than I did last time. Thoughts: commune with lazy goblins; Kibutzes, which are failures; how did Native Americans survive without private property? Was that their downfall? Is that the goblins downfall?

Things look slow. Smoke rises from carpet fibers that won freedom in the new-fashion way. I look around me to find inspiration and nobody cries. Vacant eyes stare with perfect vision and evil. Research rises over night’s cries. When in doubt string words together with a spider’s used cobwebs. The boredom and pain dominate the discussion. I give everything and receive nothing.