I'm still in my work uniform. The joys of a 12-hour shift mean that by the time I get home and have dinner it is nearly 8pm. As I sit and write this now - it is 8.36pm. I'm trying to think of a topic, anything to keep the daily blogging streak going but I can feel the tiredness in my mind.
The muscles in my forehead above my eyes are willing themselves to close. But I must write, atleast a little bit. I am committed to this daily blogging thing. I'm not sure why. But I enjoy it and, I think, it has improved my writing in the seventeen days I've done it. There will be days like this.
I wanted to write about how I researched the Pulitzer Prize and how one day I would like to win one. Then I thought, "that's a bit materialistic and narcissistic of me." There are many a great writer who never won one, it doesn't make you a bad writer not to have written one. That's a topic for another day I think. I don't have the brain power to analyse the morality of literary prizes right now.
Yet this streak continues and I'm one day closer to writing something worth reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment