I just realized I’ve been writing every day for fourteen days straight, for about five hours a day. And I had bronchitis for thirteen of those days. Is there something the matter with me?
Oh wait, I know. It doesn’t feel like work.
It doesn’t pay like work, either. 🙂
I’m normally quite proud of my stamina, but I think I’m burned out tonight. Finally. I didn’t figure this out until a full hour had passed and I realized I’d only changed two words in a paragraph that needs a complete overhaul.
So I’m going to watch Dexter until I fall asleep, and live to write another day.
And try to convince myself that it’s okay to take a day off.
(Insert guilt here.)