I'm sipping hot tea, listening to the radio. The house is quiet. It's not often I get the house to myself. Makes for a good opportunity to write. I have four stories I'm working on right now. But the knot in my shoulder keeps distracting me. Too much stress from the day job. It doesn't help that my hormones didn't get the memo about getting dumped for an older woman. And yesterday was the one year anniversary of my father's death.
All around, it's been a stressful week. If I owned a gun, I'd go shoot something. Maybe I'll find a Schwarzenegger movie and watch stuff blow up. That usually helps. Or I could go to bed early and hope I sleep more than four hours. I need a drink, among other things. Guess I shouldn't have tried working on the erotic short story. I'll stop grousing now. Hope the weekend goes quickly.
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