Basel Blues

So my physiatrist stares at me, twirls his pen and finally says something. “You’re telling me that you went on this trip to .. “

“Basel”

“Yes, that, … the biggest watch exhibition and you say that you slept ate and drank watches non-stop for five days… and when you got back you were so overwhelmed with writing about it that you didn’t bother… in fact you pretty much stopped writing regularly and the post still hangs in your head haunting you…”

“Yeah”

“Did I get it all?”

“Yea”

“And you want me to help you..?”

“Get over the guilt and move on.”

“Well, you could finish it.”

“Right.”

(silence)

And then a few hundred dollars short, I finally sat up on my computer, cracked my knuckles and hammered away at my keyboard.

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