I was not in a good place. I was so exhausted for no good reason.
That's not entirely true. There were many reasons. Work, home stress, unfulfilled wishes, life frustrations, unresolved grief... I had reached the limit of my ability to hold it together, and had reached burnout.
I didn't write a word because I couldn't. There was nothing left in my tap.
Instead, I spent my lunch hour, which is the only time I have to write, sitting in misery, letting my eyes rest and my mind wander. I couldn't write. I couldn't even muster up the strength to try. I just sat.
I'm less annoyed at myself about it now than I was last week. I realise that I needed the rest. I needed to let my mind rest. I needed to gather my strength and get my head straight.
I'm not quite there, as is evidenced from the lack of posting yesterday... again.
But I'm closer. And I will be writing again this week.
(As of the writing of this, it's Monday afternoon and I'm at home, recovering from the effects of the first vaccination jab I received Sunday. I will be heading back to bed when I finish this post and schedule it)
So, as has become regular for me of late, I failed to reach my target.
Oh well. I'm currently too tired to care.
Right, back to bed for me.