My mother got me a Zen Garden for Christmas.

It sits in its box, on my desk that functions as a dresser. I haven’t quite settled in to my “new” abode–force of habit, living out of boxes.

But, today, I wish I had it set up. I am sick, and tired, in the way that an anxiety overload makes one sick, and tired. I need some way to calm down. My coping method of crawling into the fetal position and sleeping for a few hours doesn’t seem to be helping me in the productivity department. I just need to clear my head.

103 pages to write. Two semesters’ worth of work. Seven days. Ready…go!

I just want to read Joan Didion essays. Once I get started, the writing will go smoothly. The getting started part is the problem.

C’mon, brain. Kick it into gear. Whatever “it” is. That cool productivity thing that makes us write copious pages of intelligent stuff.



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