Cold cozy house

The cozy winter house isn’t so cozy this morning. The water level on the furnace dipped too low again and it turned off in the middle of the night. I woke up this morning and just knew. The air outside our down comforter was so chilled and sulky. I should have stayed in bed. It took me long enough to get out of it, that I should have just stayed.

I feel like I’m going backwards. I’m not trusting myself. I’m smearing mud all over paper. I’ve been tripping this week and I’m not sure how to get my feet under me. This is the point when people who want to be writers can’t be writers because they give up. I know this point. It feels like it happens all too often, but somehow I still showed up even if I’m sitting in the back not participating. I at least walked through the door and picked a wobbly chair. I am at least still listening

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