Dead On The Floor

It’s naptime. The story that has been building up in me all day just made its way onto a word document. I. Am. Drained. It was only 640 words, but those words took a toll on me. When I read that Lisa See writes 1,000 words I was astonished. It seems so few for a person who makes a career from writing. What do I know? I’m a noob. Those 640 unpolished words that I have vomited onto the page have left me empty.

Right now I’m recharging. Don’t Stop Believin’ is slightly blaring (don’t want to wake the sick toddler), I’ve just brewed a fresh cup of coffee, chowing down on some bacon jam (never heard of it, what?!) and I’m burning some Nag Champa incense on my alter (Hey now, I’m Buddhist get your mind out of where ever it just went). Life is flowing back into my body. I’ve written articles before, but never had such an energy draining feeling. Please tell me this doesn’t always happen?


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