Looking at the screen, my eyes cannot keep open – and yet it is just before lunch.
No urge to shoot the bow, I did string it. But I opened the door and it was like a sauna outside already in the morning. Not sure what it is. Perhaps it is the worry and coming down off the rage of sticking my finger into the eye of fate and yelling a profanity.
It started when driving the (nearly) 3 hours back from Sister Sledge’s house.
So now I write. How do you write when the fatigue sets in? Am I lazy? Or is it my imagination has blown a circuit breaker and needs to be reset?
All the words I put down are … middle school failure level…
I mean I can spell and understand pseudopolypharmecutical (Fake multiple medications) but I have trouble with philatelist? or … what was the other? Subsumed? I don’t recall. I ended up doing more reading than writing. *sigh*
I do not know what I can bring to the table for your pleasure. I am writing an anthology of horror, I love the use of a mirror in horror. Dracula could not see his reflection. So if you think you have someone who is sweet, sexy, seductive and he is standing behind you copping a feel, and you look at your reflection in a mirror/window/chrome teapot and you are alone? Um… you just graduated into a ghost story.
So now I work on ask you.
How do you get around being fatigued?