Accomplishment is exhausting. I think sometimes the end result is hardly worth the effort put forth to get there. There are many things scribbled on an invisible to-do list in the back of my mind--things that ought to be done, should be done, but for one reason or another, haven't. I keep turning pages, looking for projects, but all these beautiful beginnings are once again dormant and I can't even bring my self to start something new due to the frustration of never finishing. I've mentioned before my two novels in the works and while I've not even considered giving up on them, it's been some time since I've made real progress on either story. I re-read and re-read, picking up new details and possibilities, clues and hints to where the story is going. But alas its inertia none, and to accelerate anything is going to take a lot of force that I don't seem to have these days. What am I waiting for? What am I looking for? I don't know, maybe nothing, maybe just the chance to do these things guilt free. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow. Carrie