spncryn/log

10092019

Didn’t accomplish much of anything today in terms of work; I sat waiting for the mailman to arrive with the new hard drive, which I’ve now installed (and works perfectly). I couldn’t work for most of the morning anyways because Windows was updating, which took far longer than it has any real right to take. Consequently my sense of routine was disrupted and I spent most of the day feeling rather restless, simultaneously wanting to work on something yet too distracted to be able to even identify something to work on, let alone concentrate on it.

This evening for some reason I was suddenly seized with an urge to write something again and in a paroxysm of compulsion I started writing the next chapter to I. Doing so has left me feeling rather drained however (which is how writing has made me feel for years now, to be honest) but it’s revived within me a curiosity that I haven’t felt in a few months – and with that, the inevitable and concomitant frustration of feeling such a strong desire to say something while feeling completely impotent in my ability to actually say it. I guess that’s just how it’s always been though. Maybe some day it’ll change. But probably not.