I like to write, but sometimes on days like today, I wonder if I wouldn’t be better off just saying screw it and just give up on it. I have all these ideas bouncing around in my head and I know what I want to write, but I just want to listen to my playlist and just veg out.
I remember my dad had days like this. He would just want to be left alone with his recliner and newspaper. I totally understand how he felt.
I have a sneaking suspicion that the barometric pressure has a lot to do with this feeling. It’s supposed to rain late tonight.
I’m hoping that I’ll feel more like writing this weekend.