I was jumping out of my skin a little yesterday, totally out of sorts and generally unpleasant. I figured since nothing else was working, I'd try doing some writing, which I've been unforgivably negligent on for over a month. Turned out to be just what I needed. Not that the writing itself was anything special, but it centered me and calmed me down.

I used to be convinced that I'd cursed myself back in college to never be happy unless I was writing. Of course, the curse is all in my head, but that's all it would take. So I'll try to write myself out of the crazy I'm feeling. And if it doesn't work, at least I'll make some progress on the book.