I’m slowing down.

I don’t know why. I wonder if it could be related to my sense that there’s things that I need to take care of sitting in the wings? If so, is it likely that I will feel almost abysmally depressed as I continue to write and continue to have things pile up? Is it seeing my girlfriend’s word count and thinking that 10000 words is so far away, and 50000 is even more astronomical?

Last night, I passed 5600 words, and barely updated my word count, but never got the blog updated. I still have yet to complete cleaning to the point that I can stick my keyboard on my desk, and start fiddling with music. This has something to do with the fact that I’m no longer satisfied with shifting piles onto other locations – that’s rearranging, not cleaning.

I also haven’t gotten any sketching in. That’s another irritation, but I have nothing to blame that on but myself.