The past couple days have just been stupidly draining. I haven’t even had the energy to blog until now.
On Thursday, I was so drained that I went to sleep as soon as I got home. Friday was exhausting, and then the traffic and bloody neighbours were so nerve-grating that I had a cry and then a nap.
At this rate, I’m going to be happy if I can just finish a novel, never mind how long it takes me to do it. With te demands on my life, I’m lucky I can even talk about novelling, let alone write or read.
Today was an absolutely lovely day.
But my blog is so wrapped up in my mind with my writing that just thinking about writing a post made me… apprehensive. I hate just complaining that everything got ahead of me almost immediately. But the fact is that it did.
I can’t do everything by myself. It’s starting to get to a point where I can’t do anything at all. So much goes on, and it tends to happen all at once. I’d say I need a vacation, but I just had one. I must be lazy. Or maybe I need a different job.
Just can’t get one. Every job search leaves me crumbled. Nothing I know how to do is marketable–or I need some kind of nominal experience to even get a look in.
Sigh. My mind is still set on stress. I don’t know how to move the slider.