Woke up this morning feeling like the weather. It hasn’t stopped raining all day and a lingering sense of meaninglessness has been itching at me. Then it hit me.
It doesn’t matter how I feel. This blog is but a silly requirement for a writer these days, not my personal journal. Shut up, self. No one cares.
My life isn’t meaningless. I have a story to write, dammit!
So now I’m going to dominate an entire bag of Mint Milano cookies and then get back to work.
This is about writing, not about whining.
(And in case you’re wondering, that Valentine’s Day thing there is from my stepmother and sings a horrible One Direction song. I don’t think anyone will know how beautiful I am after I stuff my face full of these cookies. Suck it.)