The Dead of the Brain

Sleepy is upon me, and it is rendering all rational thought…not.

I can tell you that I got through 10 more pages of Nightcraft Mother today, and that it’s going well, despite (or because of) the fact that I get to each scene, read it, think What the hell kind of character motivation is ‘I don’t know why I did that but the plot seemed to require it so I did it even though it was stupid’, then think, Oh, I know how to fix that, duh!, then I fix it and move on to the next scene which (lather, rinse, repeat)…

Anyway. I guess that’s tiring work, however satisfying. And then there were a million other things, which, I don’t even.

((And, I love that phrase, that everyone’s using all of a sudden: “I don’t even.” It’s…it’s just. You know?))

Right. Bedtime, clearly.

Oh and there was snow when I woke up. Indolently falling, as I walked to yoga. Here a flake, there a flake…

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