It rarely happens to me. But there it is. The last few weeks, I’ve been too tired to write. Perhaps it’s because of the “hate myself” chapter I wrote a few weeks ago. Truth be told, I haven’t been myself since then. Then again, the last few weeks have actually been hectic at work and at home.
I’m rarely too tired to write. That’s like saying, “I’m too tired to eat pizza” or “I’m too tired to go to sleep.” And since neither is, or can be, true, it stands to reason that I can’t be too tired to write. Yet, the last few weeks have seen me writing little. My reading has even slowed.
Is it lame to say “Tomorrow will be different?”