I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure what to write about today. I know I was supposed to post yesterday, but this week has been kind of hellish. I kind of find comfort in having an outlet to vent, but I also don’t want to discuss work here. Safe to say, it’s been an exhausting week, in every sense of the word. Current plan is to head home tomorrow in the late morning or early afternoon, but that depends on some other moving pieces that I don’t have any control over. We’ll see what happens.

Writing has, unfortunately, taken a backseat to the exhaustion. I’ve set out every night to work on Reader, and so far I’ve succeeded once. I’ve thankfully given myself enough time to get my rough draft done, though the subsequent drafts and edits have much shorter timelines, that I’m not losing a whole lot of ground by not working that hard on it this week. I hate the feeling of losing momentum, though, and I know that’s what’s happening right now.

It’s also been kind of interesting seeing the intersection between my day job and my writing. I’ve mentioned before to my coworkers (we’ve grabbed dinner together the last two nights) that I have to get back to the hotel so I can get writing done, and besides one asking me if it was because I was taking a class, there’s little to no interest in the subject. It honestly feels really awkward to talk about it, even in the abstract of “I have to go write later.” It’s likely a combination of their disinterest and my anxiety disorder, but it leaves me feeling very vulnerable and off-kilter.

I do need to go and at least open my draft. I’m already in bed, though, and the urge to just lay down and read or sleep is quite strong. Maybe I’ll just try to make up the difference on Saturday…

You all have a good evening. Next post will be less introspective and about me, and more about writing.

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