Did in fact complete a list of words, one which I’m now far too tired to type. MY commute tonight, from the kitchen island to here, the floor of the living/family room, where I now type thinking about the day and how I’m ready for the morning. My day off, technically, but I’m planning for— Not hexing it with my usual promises and wishlisting, just know the writer’s ready.
Had some mini chocolate chip cookies, paired with water, and I’m tired as I’ve ever been, this writing father. Only real accomplishment tonight, getting everything off desk. Again. Turning the Autumn Walk Studio into a project of sorts. My attempt at home design, stylization, or something.
Not in a right frame to write tonight, so I adjourn. To wake hopefully moronically but usefully early tomorrow for “content”. Analyzing my house at that hour like I have when I’ve actually been up early enough to so do.
Ugh— Can’t at all write tonight, so I stop. That’s my walk-away-with, I guess— Know when to stop. I’m stopping. Finishing my water, and then bed.