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Sunday Evening Post, Iss. 24

Updated: Sep 12, 2022

Can’t words. Too tired.

I made an emergency trip up to Kentucky this week and for those who know, it’s in a different time zone. I have a borrowed bed in a borrowed space and nowhere I can “be” so my already dysfunctional focus is further stunted in this place. Add the daily interruptions of “let’s go here” and “I have to run to town for” that, honestly, are more than daily and I’m running on fumes. Less than: I have the distant memory of what other people have described as energy.

There are some pretty great options here. There’s “outside” (hooray, allergies!), “inside” (hooray, humidity and years of embedded cigarette smoke and dog pee!), “the pool” (all of my clothes are in a stage of drying), and “let’s go visit” (ie: you’re not busy, right?). I love seeing my extended family; they’re super cool, very low-key, and excited to enjoy life.

But the pile of things I still haven’t done is growing and I don’t have a space or a stable internet connection to think about them. I have great ideas I wish I could commit to paper but… words. I lack the mental energy to write them down.

What do you do when you’re too drained to do the thing you love?

Fiction project ideas: 4


About the author: Theresa Green is the co-founder of The Writer's Workout and a crime fiction writer.


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