Reading, Writing, No Arithmetic

I do my best writing at night. At the end of the day, when I’ve had time to relax and unwind and process all of the thoughts going through my brain, I can clear everything and start to write. But if anything is out of whack or unbalanced, I can’t even rub two words together and get a turnip.

Today, I was sick all day; fever, chills, stomachache, the works. And yet, I’ve managed to pull a couple hundred words of nonsense out of my ass and slap them into Word. I also spread the love by sending out submissions.

A totally unproductive day, yet… I can’t help but feel that I did something.