I have started the process of copying over material from this blog to a thumb drive so that I don't lose anything. It is not working quite as well as I wanted it do. But that seems to be the way of things right now with pretty much everything writing related at the moment. It has been very hard for me.
I still try to get some writing done in my offline work. I think that unsatisfactory is an understatement on par with astrological units of measurement. I have not felt well about it at all. My therapist asks me why I keep forcing myself to write. I have restrained the urge to ask her why she keeps breathing. I suspect that sarcasm is not an appropriate response, thus I bridled my tongue.
I don't know what I am going to get done this week. I keep telling myself that this will be the week that I get back to posting daily. I keep telling myself that this is the week that I will be able to write more than a mere four sentence paragraph. It feels like a tissue of lies and that I am engaged in something less productive than Sisyphus's boulder moving competition. Perhaps I will be lucky and things will start to improve.
Right now, I am feeling a great deal of despair and frustration. I apologize to all of you for the fact that I have been so quiet.