The tea I'm drinking right now smells like a grandma's house

I'm in a coffeeshop right now, it's a favorite haunt. I know special secret stories about the back room and am currently in the midst of a feud with an unknown person who keeps stealing the zombie stickers I put on the wall. (I shake my fist at you, Zombie Sticker Stealer!)

I try to come at least once a week to write for a few hours. If I'm lucky, some of my writing pals are here, too (Shout out to Jessica Lee Anderson, E. Kristin Anderson, and our own illustrious PJ Hoover.) PJ will set her timer to make us all stop talking and we will write write write until it's time to order lunch or pick up a kid from school.

(Side note: it's very upsetting that my tea tastes like a grandmother's house today. I tried something new and it was a big fat FAIL. It's distracting me. Very distracted today. Look! Something shiny!)

So I'm here this morning, in the booth in the coffeeshop (with a fresh zombie sticker on the wall) and I'm not writing. I want to be writing, but I can't. I can't because two days ago I went a little insane and I wrote just over 10,000 words. That's almost 40 pages, I think. I just kept telling myself that I was almost done with my draft. Almost done. Almost done! And then suddenly, it was a million o'clock, my elbows were tingling, my fingertips were buzzy and I WAS done. Then I fell face forward on my kitchen table and didn't wake up for two days.

Not really. I managed a nice five hours of sleep and then spent the next day chasing around my kids and doing all the stuff I was supposed to be doing when I had been finishing my manuscript. I thought I'd be recovered by today, after an actual night of sleep, but it appears I am still trending towards the fried brain end of the spectrum.

I'm not actually sure what point this post has other that to say, writing is awesome. And scary. And mind-numbing. And exhilarating. And I hope that those of you who are reading this, and who are writing, and who worry about time constraints and real life wandering into your path like cranky, slow elephants - I want you to know that on some days you're able to just bypass all that elephant crap. I don't know how it happens, or even how to MAKE it happen, but here and there the stars align and you have a 10,000 word day.

I think all of this writing has somehow how given me brain itch, though, so watch out. I can't concentrate on anything anymore. I'm surprised this blog post is this long.

Maybe I'm just trying to keep myself busy so that I don't drink more of this horrible tea.