Hello insomnia. Again. I want to be angry, but I can’t. Too tired.
I awoke at 3:30 from a combination of my sheets being tugged and my son whimpering. They woke me from a glorious dream: the agent I had recently queried about my picture book manuscript had answered my query with a yes, and that feeling of elation lasted me all of two minutes. I did what any other normal writer with a recent submission who wakes up in the middle of the night with such a vivid dream would do; I checked my email. No email.
I went back to bed and urged myself to go back to sleep. I turned left. I turned right. I flipped on my stomach, then to my back. Nothing. Sleep dissipated and left me stranded, so I called on the muses, hoping to get some good writing done. Unfortunately, it seems like they’re asleep, oblivious to my predicament.
So I’ll scribble and grade until I get tired or inspired and hopefully, I won’t be hating life too much later today.