Last night I could not even get through like five pages of my new text without 1). Having my mind go off in several different tangent directions about the subject matter (Poetry as Discourse) more I want to consider as it relates to the text and 2). Wanting to fall asleep. Because that’s what reading in bed does to me apparently.
This morning I’m staring at my weekend to-do list and wondering what I should go after first. It’s going to be 60 degrees out but windy as hell. Even if doing outside sounds really appealing, it’s going to be a struggle.
So what’s it going to be? Taxes? Taping my dining room to paint? Sort and file my mail?…. yuk.
I’ll probably do Jazzercise at 10:30 and then see how I feel after that. Somehow nothing sounds appealing and I’m so uninspired.
I guess that’s it now. You know… when there’s just nothing there, why try to force it.