About writing, I mean.

Well, yes, about life in general, too. I mean, I come by it honestly. You should meet my dad. But right now I am using my stubborn talents for evil. I am stubbornly not-writing.

Not-writing, not-writing, not-writing.

Except that I am writing this blog. But that doesn't count. I just don't want to work on Evergreen, because... well, just because. Because I'm being stubborn about it. I may even stamp my feet like G. does when I suggest to him that he might want to wipe the toothpaste goop out of his sink, even though part of that goop came from his sister's toothbrush.

Evergreen is feeling a lot like toothpaste goop right now.

But I suppose if I wipe it up it'll feel better, because no one likes a goopy sink. Or a half-typed story.

Darn it. Maybe I'm not as stubborn as I thought.