I found the actual desire to write this morning.  Sort of stumbled across it, like a cat toy lost under the couch for a long time, coated in dust.  Picked it up, turned it over in my hands, batted it around a little.  And found that I had lost a couple hours.  With actual words.  On the page.  Then I hit a little bit of a wall.  And here I am.  Stumbling.  Struggling.  Going down.  Maybe I’ll do the dishes now.  Maybe go back to bed.  Dunno.  Sure felt good for a while, making actual, real progress on one of the novels.  Almost felt…like….  Stuff.  Or something.

Yeah.  Used up all my words for today.  ‘bye now.