Sometimes it is just pathetic, being at the mercy of ruthless hormones. Here’s how yesterday went.
Sane writer me: I feel so much better! That virus is like a bad memory. Cool, I can get back to my story now. Lessee, I left the heroine…
Hormones: You feel so much better. That virus is like a bad memory. Good. CLEAN THE ENTIRE HOUSE WITH A TOOTHBRUSH. NOW. Also, it’s time for you to wash the baby’s clothes, set up the bassinet, and pack your bag for the hospital.
Sane writer me: But there’s plenty of time to clean and do all of that stuff. I want to write!
Hormones: Too bad. We’re in charge now.
So. Zero words for yesterday, but you can now eat off my floor. Assuming anybody besides our cats would want to. I’m hoping that those hormones will now shut the hell up and let me get something important done.
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