On Writing and Mojo

I went to Starbucks again this morning  and got another 500 words out.  I won’t say how long it took me.  Except I got here at 9:30 and it is now past noon.  The ironic thing is that I started coming to the local Starbucks to write because I couldn’t get on the internet here (well that, and the Hot Barista Boy).  But now that we’re changing ISPs and we won’t have the new service until Tuesday, I signed up for a pay-as-you-go T-Mobile account to tide me over.  That…was a bad idea.

I’m fighting a mental war with myself to go back and edit what I have.  I am almost a third of the way to my word goal, but I know what I have is disjointed and inconsistent.  But that way lies madness.  I keep telling myself that.

(Sadly,  Hottie Barista Boy doesn’t work here anymore, as of two days ago.  Sadness.  Thought it is funny how totally deranged I sound when I talk to hot guys these days.

Hottie Barista Boy (HBB):  Hey, how’s it going?

Me: Uh.  Good.

HBB: I always see you working here.  What do you do?

Me: I, uh, I write.  Stuff.

HBB:  That’s cool.  So, it’s my last day here.

Me: Oh.  Uh.

HBB: Yeah, I’ll be working at Chase next door.

Me: Mmph. Uh.  I gotta go.

HBB: See you around.

Seriously.  It’s totally pathetic.   I think I need a mojo transpant.)