we all have our...

i have this thing where i can't just brush my teeth, i have to be doing something at the same time. like it's unproductive if i'm not getting something else done. sometimes it's simple things like pour a glass of water, count out my vitamins. but sometimes it's like folding laundry or feeding the cats, stuff that requires me to just leave the toothbrush sitting in my mouth for extended periods of time. this probably has some deep-seeded meaning that explains my mommy issues, but, i don't know, we all have our quirks...

the great thing about writing sci-fi is you can bring pretty much anything into the story. as long as your characters believe it, your reader will believe it. it's strange that after all these books i've written, and now at 75 some pages in, i still doubt myself. there's still like this panic of: can i really do this? can i figure this thing out? can i really finish this book? i've been really tired lately, so maybe that's only feeding it. don't have too much patience for speculation right now. just going to listen to cassadaga and long for a cigarette i'm sure i'll never have...