Today, just in the two hours it took me to do the Sunday laundry (not counting time for loading/unloading washers and dryers), I wrote 2400 words. It occurred to me as I was writing that an interesting thing happens to me whenever I do laundry – I tend to get more words than at any other time, usually. I think it’s the monotony of the washers and dryers running. It lulls my mind into the space where I need to be in order to bleed words.

I’d mention more, but…:scratches back of head:…I need to go bleed more words…

[[speaking of bleeding words, does anyone have the tiny snippet of poetry I wrote last Summer? the one about bleeding out onto a page? it’s like four or five words long.]]