Sleep… a quixotic place for the best of us. You tuck your brain away for the night and wish it well on its journeys to dawn.
Sleep, for me, after a day of zero creative writing… a sweatbox in an Amazonian jungle.
I shove my unruly mind in it at night and lock the door to its screams. Come morning, I drag its nonsensical carcass out, ignoring its mumblings about lemurs and calculus, and force the broken thing back to work building a bridge to nowhere.
Um, yeah. I think I’ll be writing today.