Look. I know I keep coming back to this. But I'm having recurring problems digging deep and filling my page on days when I just don't want to write. It's not necessarily on days when nothing of value happened to me. I occasionally flat-out do not want to share. My reasons vary. I am sometimes in a bad mood. Sometimes I am too tired. Sometimes it feels repetitive. And sometimes I have secrets I don't want to accidentally spill. Wherever the writer's block comes from, it's very real, and muscle memory to do this only goes so far.
So even though just a few nights ago I had a brain dead night, I've already circled back to a stubborn night. I just want to watch late night TV until I fall asleep, and while I wait for that, I'll crochet and cuddle with Athena on my hip and Harvey on my feet, as usual. At least Athena mostly stayed in place while I carefully reached for the camera. Harvey would sleep through a bomb blast at this point, but that end of the bed is poorly lit for pictures, and turning on lights would spoil the vibe.
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