Fucking Writer's Block

It's a quarter to 11 on Wednesday morning. I'm heading downstairs for a meeting of volunteers for the Children's Party next Tuesday. I'm cutting in because I know one of the volunteers will be cutting out. This will be my first encounter with the "clients" next week, my first brush with the homeless humanity this organisation serves. I'm looking forward to it with trepidation and excitement.

Meanwhile, back at Corporate HQ, I'm filling in as the organisation's interim Grant Writer. Um, wow.