Writing this at our Starbucks. I feel like my head is going to explode. Typically, i don’t work here because it’s too busy, and one never has a good go at the comfy chairs, but today is dead quiet, should be ideal for writing, not people watching, and i just feel fucking fried. Been feeling like i should be re-concentrating my efforts to write at home. That is where the dog is, and lately, both of us have been out of the house nearly daily 5+ hours a day. The shine has come off my re-awarded drivers’ license. I just want to be home. At the same time, i suffer serious doubts i would do work at home. It has mostly never worked before.

Husband reminded me that i do have an office now, but it’s lacking a chair that is in any ways comfortable, there is no armchair, and it has to be cleaned. I’m in a terrible mood, really. Today was moderately productive, 1000 words, and likely more because although it is not difficult for me to put one word in front of another with the zombie story, i want a little more direction to the action, so i stopped working on it pretty early today. All the stories that are to go out have been edited twice. It’s all good, but i feel like a total crank. I’m probably tired.