I’m having one of those times right now. I’ve been wanting to come in here and talk to you but I don’t know what to say because I don’t know how I feel.
Not knowing how I feel makes it hard for me to write. It’s hard to write blog posts and it’s hard to get any work done on the sequel to The Rise of The Phoenix, which I’ve been working on for years. Then again, it took me 5 years just to write Phoenix, so at least I’m consistent.
My motto: I shall write no book before its time.
But I digress.
My love life (sex life?) is bothering me because the stud muffin and I exchanged words last weekend and I’m still mad. Not sure if I’m mad at him (it’s not my fault you didn’t know what you were talking about and I didn’t deserve to get snarled at just because I told you some things you didn’t want to hear) or if I’m mad at me (why didn’t you just snarl back) or maybe both.