I needed something to write on yesterday. Something other than my computer which has morphed into a devilish link to all sorts of juicy, distractable distractions that might respond to me now. Or in another second. How can I not keep clicking all my inboxes to see? So, no I wanted pen on paper. I wanted to sit in the one room without wireless and write like I used to, without any temptation to click click click away. And that's when I found an old journal tucked into a basket next to a desk I never use any more and I opened it and found this on page one:

November 15, 1999:

It's like I have all the pieces to a very complicated jigsaw puzzle but I might be missing a few and I won't know until I try to complete it....

And when I read it I thought it seemed as if I was so close to figuring it out and now I'm not even sure what "it" is...