It’s cold and grey in Brisbane this morning. My alarm just went off, alerting me that it’s time to get up, which would be awesome but for the fact that I have been awake for two and half hours now. There are very few things I miss about having undiagnosed and untreated sleep apnea, but the ability to wake up early, realise that it’s bullshit o’clock, and go back to sleep is definitely one of them.
These days, if I wake up at bullshit o’clock, I get up at bullshit o’clock.
On the plus side, I get some writing done. Words on the story draft. Words on the novella re-write. Words here, which tend to be the third priority in a day, and thus becomes the thing that suffers when my priorities undergo tectonic shifts.
It is cold and grey out there this morning. Perfect writing weather. I kinda wish I could fuck off work for the day, sit here on my couch, and finish a goddamn story.
But that would be unprofessional of me.
Goddammit.
