And here I am driving on the highway,
It’s the way Tuesdays always start,
When I suddenly get the urge to fly off the nearest exit,
Turn this damn car around,
Begin the book my souls been beckoning me to write,
Begin living what I’ve been dreaming about since I was a young child.
The moment is fleeting.
Starving artists don’t pay the bills.
You’ll begin your book another day.
And so Tuesday begins just like it always has,