I’m having a hell of a time here today. Everything rings false–except this sentence.

Brad Listi, the editor of The Nervous Breakdown (where I used to contribute), commenting on one of my essays once said,

“the internet is hell on writing in a lot of ways….[it] has neuro-chemical implications that haven’t been totally quantified yet.”

I think I am having a neuro-chemical writing breakdown today. I am certain it has nothing to do with (all) the Irish whisky I drank last night with friends, Susan and Harry. Certain. Damn good stuff that, though.

Let’s leave it at that. Perhaps the neuro-chemical balance thing will self-rectify soon.