I admit I have been weak. The BedDemon has lured me into her clutches twice. I lost all of yesterday because I confined myself to her flannel-depths for the entirety of a day. She is so tempting only because the SleepAngel seems to leave me, and leave me often. I have not been able to rest comfortably, and I believe this is due to my worry. I am worried about these pages, and producing them. Will I even succeed? Doubt is beginning to settle heavily on my thoughts. I hope I can tell a brighter tale tomorrow, on full of accomplishment.
Writing should actually be getting easier, not more challenging. And yet, this week is just not my week for accomplishing things. I have the weekend to catch up. To get some semblance of what I had planned to Sensai. So, for this instance — desert-island-drama-dropped, cause this is serious — I might seriously be digging myself into a metaphorical hole. So, before it gets any deeper, here’s to climbing out, filling it it, and being productive.
Ok. Pages done. Time wasted. Documentary watched. Expect a hour by hour account of tomorrow night and Monday. I think it’s the only way to keep myself on track.