I'm working a 5:30-1:30 shift tomorrow, so am determined to get to bed early.
The poem I worked on last night (a significant revision of / different take on the ants piece) had me concentrating hard enough that I snapped at both the dog and D when they poked their heads into the room. Maybe being irritable while writing isn't the best sign in the world, but where I am now, that's a sign that I'm focusing.
I mean, it's not like I'm writing Kubla Khan or anything, but I am guarding that concentration when I can get it.
There are so many activities with the kids this week and next week that I don't even want to write them all down. It's one thing after another. All good, and manageable (just), but a lot all the same. Not a good time to be sleep deprived. To bed, now.
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