A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Three-Hundred-And-Eight

I have been struggling with a mild headache this evening.  It is not terrible, but it is enough that I just want to lay my head down and close my eyes.  It slowed me down a bunch, in terms of getting to work tonight, ironically.  I sat down to start work and just couldn't get myself to focus.  I should probably cut myself a bit of slack when I am not feeling well, but I still worry, even after so long, that one or two days of not writing is all it would take to stall me again.  I have a great deal of difficulty, even now, with work other than poetry much of the time, and I remember all the years I had when I was not so productive, the struggle it took to build up a process and a routine that worked for me.  I am afraid that it would be too easy to slip backwards again, though I know that is probably silly.  I have certainly skipped a night or two in the past, often by accidental oversight, but still, I haven't made a habit of it.  Anyhow, I am done now, at least, and can get to bed without any anxiety over my writing practice.  

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