Today I was a writer

I was feeling tired, frustrated, and a bit burned out with all the tasks on my To Do list. I resigned myself to wasting the afternoon, but for some reason picked up my current writing project instead. An hour later I have 5000 more words of rough draft and I feel better about everything.

Why on earth does it keep surprising me that writing makes me feel better about my life? Why doesn't that knowledge make it easier for me to pick up projects when they've lain idle for a week? You hear me brain? You have some stupid stuck in there.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.