So, I’m realizing something…I’m pretty much useless trying to write at night. I keep thinking that those quiet moments in the evening after the kiddos have gone to bed and I can finally sit and unwind should be moments when I can focus and create and get some words down on paper. But it just doesn’t work that way. I’m too fried at the end of the long day to really make much sense of anything, let alone try to put coherent thoughts in any sort of reasonable order.

I used to be better at this–back before I had long, challenging days at work and kids and kids’ activities and evening meetings and all of the other obligations that come with maturity and adulthood. These days, I have to set a reasonable bedtime and try to get up early in the morning if I stand a chance of finding my focus and getting any writing done.

And here I still sit, 10:30 at night, eyelids drooping, trying to tap into something. But the truth is, at least for today, I’m tapped out.

And that’s okay, because tomorrow is a great day to try again.

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