My brain has turned to mush and I can no longer write coherently. I was on a roll yesterday on a story when my boss dragged me out of the office to go to a presidential colloquium about the invisible computers in our lives. It was interesting, although sitting still in one place for more than an hour kills me (and makes me yawn. I was up late doing my taxes Monday night).
So now I have this story to finish. And it was technically due yesterday. And I still have to send it to other people to read and approve before I submit it. Well, I should. I’m still so tired. My brain is mush.
Last weekend, I went to a writing “convention” (there were 8 of us in a hotel room being forced to write by the Poetry Nazi — www.poetryproject.org — A poem a day keeps the voices away). Maybe I’m written out. Like worn out. For writing. Focus is really hard for my brain right now.
Just in the period of writing this entry I have checked my e-mail at least 4 times, received a phone call from my mother, checked my voice mail, e-mailed some photos for someone (work-related), skimmed through part of a magazine (again, work-related), got up to get a glass of water and had a conversation with a co-worker. Oh, and written 2 more sentences of that story. It’s not supposed to be too long, at least.
It’s a fibro day.