Time change is a horrible, terrible imposition upon us folks, rich or poor or in-the-between-of-it-all.
It’s just mean. Meaningless. Less than something good to do.
It has to stop.
Meanwhile, it’s so extra early, water is already brewing for the second mug of tea.
Earl Grey. Hot.
Got to keep going. Yep.
Not « keep writing to finally hit the daily 2000 words goal ». Nope.
The manuscript is there. All the notes are clear. All the words are (patiently, I hope) waiting.
And yet, here I am, looking at the never-ending to-do list beside my computer friend.
Tired. Inside Out Tired.