I have a theory that the day before (or day of) a therapy session something monumental happens that will emotionally precede whatever you had planned to talk about all week. It’s like a reliable derailment of a planned progression. Sometimes, the day after therapy some monumental event will happen to prove whatever annoying thing your shrink said was right. Considering that I’ve long feared that attempting to write a book would be like undergoing therapy akin to that freaky rebirthing stuff, it shouldn’t be surprising that today went a little haywire. Instead of diving into my NaNoWriMo manuscript, I just want to angrily hash out today’s events. In fact I’m finding it impossible to even look at a word document right now.
So what’s the answer? I think I’m supposed to just keep writing. Maybe if all I can write about is my work day, that’s what I have to write about. Eureka! Either my tranqs just kicked in or I just got the point of this whole thing.
Gotta go!
