by Jansen Schmidt
[My Comment: I think I’ve overdone it this time indulging in the use of a forbidden time machine. But I find it hard to write when an alien ellipsoid craft keeps building platforms on Mesas to make dire announcements to mankind by interrupting TV, cable, cell-phones or by getting into people’s heads. So I’ve come from the future and gone back in time to when they hadn’t arrived yet.
But yet I still can’t write. It’s very quiet at 3am, so I should be able to write. But I usually awaken from a nightmare, and I turn on the TV to change my mood. But something still doesn’t seem right. I mean there’s nothing very upsetting in this time frame: just the usual conventional trivial wars, no galaxy takeovers or anything or the destruction of the Earth. So it’s relatively calm. Perhaps, trying to write in English is my mistake: it’s very primitive and limiting. Oh well, maybe I’ll go home to future catastrophe.]
So, I’ve hired help here at the inn. The workload was getting to be too much for a single person to handle. I thought this situation would free up some time for me to get back into the habit of writing. I thought that. I really did.
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