Whinge

My first entry - though not my first essay, was a

simple list.  100 things about me.  Having now lost  my

impetus, I am drawn to the idea of a dribble

of words.  I stare at nanowrimo with my toddling novel

staring at me with big imploring eyes.  I am at

a loss, of words and of focus, though not ideas. 

First, to prime the dry pump, lubricate.  Today and for

the rest of the month, I will write 100 words

exactly every day. I will write about whatsoever is at

hand.  There may be more bad haiku, whinging, work stories.