Not so Great
Do you ever have weekends where they days merge into each other? I do. I'm going to invent a new day of the week – called “Satunday” – where you don't go to bed on Saturday night, and then your feet don't touch the ground on Sunday.
There are too many stories to tell. Too many struggles to wrap my head around. Too much going on. Given the last 48 hours, I've realised there is no way on earth I can take part in NaNoWriMo this year.
The problem with plodding along each day is not that life occasionally pulls the rug from under you – it's more a case that occasionally life gives you a good kicking, and then kicks you each time you try to get back up.
And yes – this cryptic post is cryptic.