I have reason to believe that we are psychically connected.

I had just typed up my indifference, tendered my resignation as to the position of your amanuensis. (Even if it was perhaps temporary.) I'd even hit send.

The recipient, of course, is not one with the authority to accept such a statement, nor make it official. But she is a secret-keeper, and that for the moment was good enough for me.

I'd been on hiatus, few words (if any) clicking onto my keyboard--beginning to wonder how long I could go without it, and whether I would miss it at all.

I should have known.

We are never on the same schedule. Our Outlooks never synch. That is the problem, and that is the solution. And by solution, I mean inspiration. Timing conflicts yield writing. Correlating itineraries would mean we'd have better things to do. In relation to each other.

I wouldn't have to write.

And you wouldn't have to lurk.

Which would be synergistic. Considering if I weren't writing you'd have nothing to read. And you wouldn't have the time nor inclination to read if we were actually doing what I'd been previously writing about.

We should try that sometime.

Have your people call my people. Maybe someday we'll actually end up with some face time.