Last night I went home after work, cooked and ate dinner, played bass for an hour and barely worked on my short story. Essentially I typed up all the little sections I have handwritten so I can start editing.
I feel a little guilty, that I should have done more. At the very least written the ending, which is already in my head, or gone to the Ministry/Hanzel und Gretyl show at the 9:30 club last night. But I was so damn tired last night; I even drifted off on the metro ride home from work. Something I almost never do. I guess I can blame it on working 7 days in a row, but ten years ago, hell even five years ago, I would have gone to the show, come home and wrote for an hour afterward. Now it's hard for me to do either one. Either I'm getting old or I need to make some adjustments in my life. Or maybe I just need some new vitamins.
Not sure which I feel worse about, missing the concert (both are good live bands) or not writing. But right now I just feel, well, Bleh.
Well, the sun is shining and hopefully after all the meetings I have to attend today in place of my sick boss I'll have time for a lunch break. A cup of coffee on a bench at Freedom Plaza with my writing pad in my lap sounds pretty good about now. But duty calls.