Glorious in LA today. Cool. Got warm, but not too warm. I was able to keep the door to my office almost all day.
Restless, though. Not in the groove. Feeling disjointed. I mean I got all my stuff done, which is great, but I don’t feel great. I feel…like my feet aren’t really on the ground. Like I’m floating. In an anxious way. That’s really it right there: when I’m like this, I can’t fully relax. I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, or what I should be doing, and so I can’t chill because I’m not sure where I should be. Hate it.
BUT…there is an easy solution: I need to actually get up on time tomorrow morning and get these review/rewrite pages done for the book. If I can get all the way caught up by the time my co-writer gets his pages back to me, oh, that would be so very, very satisfying. So, yeah. That’s what’s up. I’m back at it tomorrow.
Pretty wild, this writing habit that I’ve formed. I feel lost without it. It’s taken me literal years to get here, but I’m glad that I am. It feels right. Very satisfying and rewarding.
Night night.