Each night for the last few days, when I get home from work, I got nothing. I got no creative in me. I Have it in me, but it doesn’t want to come out. I have this idea for this contemporary scifi novel, and it’s there. It’s just congested. Like my chest. Like my throat. Like my body.  It’s not a bad sickness, just a little sick. 

When you are sick, all the other stuff just goes away. You just want to be healthy. I just need rest and there seems to be no end in site. 

So please, give me a little break here. When I feel a little better I’ll be able to manage more than just twitters. I promise.

Tags: Science fiction

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 24th, 2008 at 10:49 am and is filed under The Life of A Spaceman. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.