I fell off cliff when it comes to writing. All writing, not just this, but I haven’t written in my journal, no short stories, and I haven’t worked on any of my novels. Just nothing. And I haven’t really been as creative as I had I would be in this time. I was thinking that working from home would allow me to power through my work and then have the time to jot down ideas, and then at night work on those ideas. That hasn’t materialized the way I though it would. Work takes all my time, and then I need to help out with the kid and her online schooling. With walks, making lunch and dinner some days, by the time we get the kid in bed, it’s booze time, and just trying to relax our way out of the day and this existence. I don’t want to sound too downer about it, but by the end of the day, everything has worn us down, and it’s like just a victory to survive the day and be healthy. But tomorrow, that might change. And it makes it hard to do the long-term work that is writing. You have to believe that you get to have a great many tomorrows so you can create a book, or even a decent story. This is the first opportunity that I feel that I have had in two weeks to sit down and think about putting words to what I am feeling.
Thankfully, we are all healthy in the apartment, and generally dealing well with each other.
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