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monday.
I am home. I am sitting down. I am drinking tea.
I am so tired.
As much as I love S. - and I do, she's found family to me in the most valuable way imaginable - the bus drive from my place to hers is a killer and when I get home from our visits, no matter what we've been doing, I am completely and utterly wiped.
Today we ended the visit with a 45 minute walk of her dog, in 25 degrees Celcius weather. Which is, I must add, a lot by Danish standards, especially in September.
I got home and just collapsed.
K. is having piano lessons tonight, so I'll be home alone between 7 pm and 9 pm which should probably be a good time to get some writing done. I finished my scene, so I think I will spend tonight finding out the approach I'm going to use for the next one and maybe, maybe get started on it, though I can already tell, actual writing words might not happen tonight.
Because. Tired.
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