Last Sunday I had a burst of inspiration and I sat down to the computer trying to get everything out of my head and onto the page. Today I feel empty. It's strange how capricious my bouts of ideas can be. I would rather thoughts came slowly and steadily than all at one moment and then not at all.
Here's a thing: couples with babies make me want to have a child; couples with children make me happy I'm not a mom.
Wright submitted a second article for publication and it still hasn't appeared in the magazine. I'm glad. Today was supposed to be the day that we both submit something and I don't have anything. I think I need a new writing partner. Wright doesn't inspire me anymore. It's not his fault though. I just fear being read and it keeps me from getting something done and ready to get out.
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