But I try not to let it. I was all set to write on my lunch hour (busman's holiday since I do a lot of writing at work), practically had my fingers on the old keyboard, when the phone rang. It was dd (23 yrs. old). She has bipolar disorder and is a wonderful girl but a challenge. She has been doing quite well but lately I've noticed some signs of a downward slide...again. It happens four or five times a year. I was feeling pretty bummed and hoping that I had misread the signals.
But here I am ready to write, and she calls having a mini-meltdown. By the time I hung up all creative urge had vanished to be replaced by an urge for gooey, sweet, highly caloric foodstuffs..since I'm at work and can't have any of the hard stuff.
But I put my fingers BACK on the keys, and managed to subdue my own neurotic tendencies toward extreme worry long enough to bang out a page and a half. Triumph! I am at the end of Chapter two and perking right along. It still feels like crap, but I think there are one or two funny moments and a couple of decent sentences.