So there I went, opening my big mouth about the return of my awesome dreams and what happens?? I have absolute crap dreams last night–worthless night’s sleep. It was a conglomeration of probably my last 5 jobs, all mashed together to create one big, anxiety-filled pudding of indigestion. I’ve had a stomach ache all day as well, and I completely blame THAT.
So I’m home after a day that went much faster than usual (and I’m glad), still with my tummy telling me off, but able to take a few moments, I’m hoping, to lie down and relax–and get back to my writing. I’m not sure what I’ll work on, since the muses responsible for half a dozen pieces were all chattering all day today, and all at once as well. It really is lovely, though I do hope they will share actual words that I can put on paper (or in the infernal Mac machine). I’d actually prefer the paper and pen route. The muscles in my writing hand are getting weak from too much typing. Can’t have that. Who’s going to write for me when I’m no longer able to?? Right: No One. So I guess I’d better get to it.