November Fifth Two Thousand Eighteen
Yesterday was not a good day for writing. I kept getting distracted. and today does not seem to be any easier. I am tired, and that is entirely due to the weather being cold, wet, and dreary. it is the kind of cold that sinks into your bones and refuses to leave. the worst possible kind.
I do not want to write much today, but I know I probably should. But I know if I force myself to write, then I will not want to write any more at all. So I may just leave this at that.In fact, I think I will. Unless I can think of more I want to talk about tonight.
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