The clock tells me it is not quite one in the morning, and I really should return to bed.
I've fallen into the odd (and not really sustainable) habit of coming home, eating dinner, napping, and waking up late. Then, I get in an hour or two of computer time, and go back to bed.
I feel all fuzzy-headed, so writing isn't getting done. (Also, my feet are cold, which really inhibits creativity!) I've used the time pretty well, catching up on e-mails, completing so much of the obligatory ends-and-ends of paperwork, and doing some bits and bobs of research on things. I find the time has not been wasted. Yet, I long for the settled in comfort of typing away merrily as I carve out a story, and I haven't quite gotten to that point yet. I've been very diligent and practical in meeting ordinary life demands, but I am in contemplation on how I need to implement some changes to better foster my energies and environment.
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