July Sweeps - Day 175

So, yesterday was easily the hardest writing I've done since I started this that first day of February.  I drove all the way back from Vegas, unloaded, tried to get some work done, did my sit-ups, did my nightly run . . . and then it was time to do my writing if I was going to get it done.  It wasn't all that wise, since I knew I'd have to be up early the next morning to unload the U-haul truck we had packed the day before . . . but I tried my best to write.

But wow, it was hard.  I could not stay awake, no matter how I tried.  I wrote a little bit involving the hatchling, and thought, "Okay, is this enough?"  It was about 182 words.  The Magic Spreadsheet doesn't even consider that as writing (damn you), so I pressed on.  But my head was dipping, and I'd not be able to think of words, and I'll bet, if I read through it now, it will have sentences like "Rick didn't have the answerboobs to that questionboobs, but he knewboobs what he wanted to say: boobs."

I only had five hundred or so words, so I got up, splashed some water on my face, and tried it again.  But here's the thing: just like when I'm doing audio recording, once you're that tired, you aren't doing good work.  It's better to just stop, because the time is going past--by now it was one am--and it's not being put to good use trying to keep your eyes open.

Today was the day to go unload the U-haul, and there were so many people helping, that it only took ninety minutes or so.  But dang, my day was pretty much shot, I discovered, because I got no work done after, and then it was later, and my nephews needed someone to drive them to the lake.  I took them . . . to the wrong lake, in the wrong town.  Now they're fishing, and I could write, but whoops, the time went by, and I didn't get a single word written--only this blog.

Boobs.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In July: 3906

Today too was pretty miser--  No, let me rephrase. 

I was pretty miserable today.  Another one of those "What a wasted life, why do I go on, whoa is me" kind of days.  I am wholly (to keep up the W words) unhappy, and wish (to keep up the W words) I had never been born.

However, it may just be chemical (and several decades of utter worthlessness, to keep up the W words), so I think I'll change into my running clothes and do a jaunt around the block and see if it makes me feel any more positive about my life.  It is possible.

I'll talk to you after.

Words Today: 553
Words In July: 23,177