So much to digest this month.
Obstacles have led to poor work ethic. I’ve seemingly abandoned my Twitter account. Blogging’s become a Sunday thing. My job hunt isn’t going as smoothly as planned, and the last thing I want to do is take a writing job for pay (those are the worst). My running three times a week, has turned into walking six days of a week.
Life, and my novel series—they’re in a weird limbo. What is it about January that makes even the simplest things, mundane?