It’s possible that cleaning up the house, uncluttering the house, also uncluttered my mind, and when it comes to deciding what to write about, I don’t think it’s a good thing. An uncluttered mind, tonight anyway, means a surface free of extraneous thoughts, extraneous stuff. I have a goal – sleep – and the path to my goal is unimaginative. Remove contacts, brush teeth, take shower, read book, sleep. Done. I can’t quite start down that path because John is in the shower, and I have to wait. Time to write, right? Sure. About what? Usually there are things everywhere. Papers on my desk, books stacked on the shelf, my riding boots in the corner. Today, those things are missing, stashed away, put where they belong. Not available for inspiration. Instead, this room is clear, and my mind is clear, and MAN, clear can be boring.