Something about today killed my brain.
I don't really know what it was. Pretty uneventful day at work, maybe some vague dissatisfaction at the reveal of next week's schedule (I'm at the heavier-trafficked location and closing a great deal, which means a lot of cleaning). A phenomenal lunch with the ex (we hit up Handy Nasty for double cooked fish and dan dan noodles), followed by an afternoon and early evening of watching Community and minding the beasts.
At the end of it, I've got nothing. I want to write, I have a couple of topics I'd love to write about, but the words just aren't coming. I'm up in a couple of other places I need to fire off a post or two, and my fiction muscles are seizing up.
I even tried to think about food I wanted to write about, and nada.
So yeah, I don't know what it is about today. I'm a muted version of myself. A self that isn't creative. A self that doesn't really feel like consuming the media it usually enjoys. A self that isn't hungry, both physically and metaphorically.
If I felt like this all the time, would I be okay with it because I didn't know what it was like to not be like this? Or would this nameless, nagging dissatisfaction linger in the back of my head my entire life?
More importantly, will I wake up tomorrow feeling like I do right now?
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