In a moment of blind enthusiasm for something that might bust me out of the writers’ funk I’ve had going on, my brain went, “A story a day for a month? Why the fuck not?!?”
Now, no matter how many times I give reasons for ‘why the fuck not,’ it keeps pushing back with ridiculous drivel about how I need to be committed and accountable for writing something and this provides it to me.
You make me want to go drink until I can’t feel feelings anymore. Feelings like unadulterated fear at the prospect of having to craft and finish not one but MANY stories in a single month.
Yet I’m going to do it… so the brain wins this round.
Also... new blogger layout is new. Not sure how I feel about this yet. I find change disquieting.