My brain is zoned out something crazy.

So, my goal was to finish the rough draft of the memoir for January 1st. Though that did not happen, I am so close to the end it's baffling almost to believe I have been doing this for so long. Over a year writing. My brain is starting to give way.

Towards the second half of last year I swore off reading anyone else's books until I finished the rough draft of my own. I have not read a book in months and it's starting to bother me. I have barely even written in my personal journal. No bullshit, that I need to find time to do because it's one of the ways I keep my balance. Last time I wrote in a journal was Christmas. Not a good look, I'm usually every day.

It's time. It's time to get this done. It's time to feel this manuscript in my fingers, and start editing something that isn't attached to my computer screen. It's time to allow myself some outside literature and get that reading muscle stimulated.

Only about twenty pages left, I's the final stretch.

Dear brain hurts, but I love you.