I sit in front of the computer, typing these words without much idea of where they’ll go. Not that there aren’t ideas. There are always ideas. I’ve never had any problem with ideas. But they came with the promise of anticipation. Two published but underperforming novels later, that anticipation isn’t so buoyant anymore. It’s a jaded and resigned prick – if it was a barfly, it’d be the old drunk who rambles about how good things used to be, and sees no merit in the future. Procrastination’s easier too. Check social media that doesn’t need checking. Play 2 on 2 Open Ice Challenge on the PC arcade emulator that sits…