…and then I just stopped…

I don’t know why, but I haven’t felt like doing much of anything at night when I get home except vegging in front of the TV. So, that’s what I’ve done.

I’m so close to finished on my novel – only 2604 words left to edit! – and yet, I can’t make myself get it done. For one thing, I didn’t sleep well on Sunday night. I ended up getting up at five Monday instead of my usual time. I got to bed earlier on Monday night to combat the fatigue, but then I woke up with a strange, almost unidentifiable ache near my shoulder blade. WTF? So I got up about ten minutes before the alarm then.

I couldn’t really concentrate, either. After the morning rush was over I sort of slumped and cruised through my day. I hope I don’t have another weird bout, but I’m due for some ibuprofen to relax that back spasm and see if it will help me sleep through the night. Without pain.

I’m relatively stress-free right now. At least, I think so. So I can’t figure what’s up with the poor sleep (and weird dreams!), and the back issue is just…weird.

I’m hoping tomorrow I can finish that novel, or at least do some of it. I mean, how much self-sabotage do I need to inflict on myself here?

Anyway, I’ll let you all know how things go next time I talk atcha.



2 thoughts on “…and then I just stopped…

  1. I think that’s one of the classic signs of getting older. You go to bed healthy and wake up injured. I had something similar happen a week or two ago with my left calf. I limped for four days…

    It’s weird, isn’t it? I have no idea how that happens. Odd.

    And at least you’re closer on the editing than I. I just started editing last night.

    Well, true, but then, you just finished the writing. Glad to see you around!

  2. My motivation level is low right now too. It might be the heat. Speaking of weird dreams (you know every time you mention yours I have to tell you about mine) I had one last night where Best Dog Otis peed all over the spare bedroom. I mean it was ankle deep. I asked, “Why did you do this?” and he answered, “I don’t know.” In real life he smiles when he’s bad. If he’s going to talk in my dreams, he should at least know the answers.

    Your weird dreams trump mine because you remember them. 😉

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