It has been an insane few days.

I turned 54 on Friday the sixth, and my birthday present was the Garth Brooks concert on the fifth.  It was awesome, but I came home with pretty much no voice (it finally recovered late Friday evening) and completely wiped out.

To quote the man himself: “I’m much too young to feel this damned old.”

But anyhow…

Work has been insane all weekend and I’ve been exhausted.

And last night…

Last night at work I broke the ice machine.

And the floor.

(I’m now almost afraid to go to work this afternoon.)

Through all of this I’ve still been managing to write my thousand words a day – more or less.  Some days I only got close, but I had a bit of a padding and was holding on to a one thousand word cushion.  Barely.

Until last night when I was just too exhausted to string words together in any semblance of a coherent sentence.   How tired was I?  I was in bed at 2:30 instead of 3:30.

Goodbye 1000 word cushion – hello breaking even.

But I got a pretty good amount of sleep last night so I’m all fired up to write.

Except for that work thing…

But after tonight (providing the building and I survive) I have two days off.

To recover.

And write.


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