A lack, for want of a better word

Well, today more than others recently, I feel pretty bad. Absolute lack of energy or ability to commit to anything more than sleep. Even reading, my first love in life, is mostly beyond me.

I had hoped today to get several things done in my physical existence, as well as yet more editing and hopefully make more progress reading this book I’m reviewing for a fellow author.

All I’ve actually accomplished is to re-read a scene in Between the Lines, doubt its worth as it currently is written, ponder on how I could make it better; shorten it, combine it with another scene, axe it entirely; and then fall into the pit of doubt that gapes before all authors, professional and experienced or otherwise.

I have read today, not as much as I wanted to, though. The book I’m reading, Dreamlander, is hard to put down when I’m not feeling this way, but today it’s hard to even pick up.

I’d like to claim the change in weather is the cause – the change from Friday’s Mediterranean-like sunshine to today’s skies filled with clouds – but surely that can’t account for such a tremendous drop. It’s like I’m verging on thinking of giving up.

And that is so sad.

I was meaning to do some of my university work today too, but having the book sat before me only re-enforced my longing to curl away in my bed and sleep away the day. I couldn’t concentrate on the words on the pages or move my pen across the paper to make notes.

I sincerely hope, (no, something stronger than that, though I know not the word) that tomorrow brings with it the me I was a few days ago. This, whatever this is, isn’t conductive to achieving anything, let along writing a book or studying for a qualification.

Until then, all I guess I can do is wait it out.

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