But I am le tired.

So today I went and bought boxes and then came home and packed a lot of boxes. I did most of the part of packing that I think about when I think about packing: putting books into boxes. So now I have the rest of the weekend to do the parts of packing that I forget about, i.e. putting stuff other than books into boxes.

As soon as I go get some more boxes.

Anxiety level is at, "Oh, hm. Maybe I could get some writing done this weekend, too?"

But holy shit am I tired. Possibly I should have paced myself a little more.

I actually did get some writing done tonight--after more than a month, the stars finally aligned for a friend and I to do our supposed-to-be-weekly ritual of meeting up in a coffee shop to write. I was excited to see her and excited to go have coffee shop writing time, and then got there and realized that, oh, hey, maybe I should do some writing? I managed a total of about 300 words across two different stories, but it's the most I've written in a week and a half (which is AGES for me) so I'll take it!

And now: Candy Crush time! :D