1677. Fatigue at the End of the Road

I’m tired.

This is no big revelation to those who know me. The nights end at 11:11 and days begin between 4 and 5 AM. I’m not working out and doing so much reading and writing that the brain often slips into auto pilot mode and the stuff that winds up filling these ten minutes is a garbled mess of stray thoughts and half baked ideas. Still, all of it is part of the process and part of the process is falling apart for a week or two while your head gets right enough to slip out of the gravitational pull of whatever story you’re working on and form coherent thoughts.

Not quite there yet…

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