The with which I am floored by something still shocks me. The things that open old wounds are astounding. I was using my phone today and in going through one of my apps I ran across something that just caused me to sit in the car and think.
It’s hard when you remember someone or something you don’t want to. I’ve lost friends and family and sometimes even just thinking about a time when you had something you shouldn’t have squandered can temporarily tear you down.
I came home on a mission after that.
I had to get some work done. I had to make myself get back on my feet and continue to plow through it. Despite the sore throat and my lack of desire to eat due to the sore throat, I can still put my fingers on this keyboard. I can still write.
And now the novel has surged past the one hundred thousand work mark again. Looks like its back to trimming.
And back to soldiering on.
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