I started writing last night but it was late and I was tired. I didn't get very far before I just left it alone. I seemed to have come to a good stopping place and I took advantage of it. At least that is what I convinced myself of last night.
I wonder sometimes if I should just push through those times. Sometimes that seems to work and I am able to surprise myself with getting more done than I thought but than there are the other times when it isn't worth the extra time and I end up with nothing except being extra tired.
I guess that is what makes it all so hard, fun, exciting, frustrating, tiring and wonderful. If I didn't have the variations come along would I be able to appreciate the good with the bad? Doesn't the good seem that much better when it's laden with tough things I've pushed myself through? Granted, it is easier to remember all the bad when I've had to go through it all. But when I step back and see where I am and what I have done despite it all.
Tired just can't keep up.
TT
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