30-day Novel: Day #22

Total Word Count: 10,627

I am burnt out and it has absolutely nothing to do with writing a novel (obviously).

I worked over 8 hours yesterday and was still unable to catch up on my workload.  I arrived at home 45 minutes later than I should have.  I had no energy left.  I wanted to ride my bike, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I was so tired.  Instead, I spent a couple hours typing out notes from The Fountainhead and The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women for my upcoming book reviews.  I then spent a little time reading The Art of Non-Conformity: Set Your Own Rules, Live the Life You Want, and Change the World.  (In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I have a pretty broad range of literary tastes).

Later in the evening, I headed north to therapy, where I proceeded to update L_______ on my relationship with D__ and vent about my frustrations and stress related to work.  It helped to get things out.  It helped to voice my internal struggle regarding my new employment status.  I wasn’t really looking for advice.  Most of the time I just use my therapist as a sounding board for my thoughts and my own behavior analysis.  We moved onto my insomnia.  This is obviously a problem that’s not going away.  It’s so bad lately that my memory is really slipping.  I used to pride myself on my incredible memory.  It was never photographic, but it was close.  Now it seems like I have trouble remembering the simplest things.  For example, I’ve asked D__ 3-4 times when his health benefits will be active.  Each time I ask, he gets a little more frustrated because we’ve already had that conversation.  Last night, L_______ asked me if I remembered our agreement, should my insomnia continue without improvement. I had no idea what she was talking about.  She to remind me that I agreed that, if things got this bad, I would go back on Ambien so I wouldn’t completely fall apart.  I hate the idea, but she’s right.  It’s the only thing that has a chance of helping at this point.  Until I see the endocrinologist, I don’t have any other options.  Maybe it will work.  Maybe I’ll sleep and maybe I’ll be able to write again.


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