Grumpier than Grump McGrumpmarson, son of Grumpthor

Not even a chocolate mousse has alleviated my petty *meh*ness. I haven’t found myself the time to write for a week and while work has been stressful and involved longer hours than of late I think it’s simply the same old same old doubts about the plotline kicking in again.

I’m tempted to simply finish any old tat and print myself a copy through simply for the sake of doing it.

Meh. Meh. Meh. The more people I read on t’intertron, particularly aspiring novelists, the less I feel like finishing the current story and the more I feel like going more outre and genre than at present. Meh. I’m not sure I’d read the thing I’m writing. If you see what I mean.

Meh. Give me an E, give me a M, give me an O. Grumpy grumpy grumpy.

Looks like it’s time for a nap.

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