Grumble, grumble.
I finally got back to writing in my paper journal this week, which was a greater relief than I can explain. I've made a resolution to think of myself as a writer who drives bus for a living, and hopefully that will bring the desired response from my rather bruised psyche. (Some more energy and hope would be greatly appreciated. Maybe if I poke it with a stick? Now I'm imagining my disembodied brain lying on the ground as I prod it with a branch from the back yard. It jiggles and lies there, mocking me -- or ignoring me, which amounts to the same.)
Blah. Maybe I'm just down today because I have the day off and made a resolution to clean house. BOO. And all I"ve really done is watch too much TV, and have a fight with the husband, though I'm not really sure what it was about at the moment.
Maybe a bath will solve something.
Blah. Maybe I'm just down today because I have the day off and made a resolution to clean house. BOO. And all I"ve really done is watch too much TV, and have a fight with the husband, though I'm not really sure what it was about at the moment.
Maybe a bath will solve something.