Slowly, slowly returning to the mindset that this writing thing is less a cosmic joke that I've borne the brunt of for the last 20+ years and more an essential part of who I am, for better or for worse: part of the frustration – and this need (rational – though perhaps too rational) for some nebulous "else" – is that I get up so early (which I prefer) that I'm mentally tapped out (read: old and tired) by lunch if not by the end of the morning run and that I'm incapable of mustering the requisite focus and/or willpower to push ahead creatively through the remaining 10-13 hours of of my waking day which – while the smart thing to do would be to view those 10-13 as a time for replenishing and restocking my creative well – nonetheless feel more like a further drain on my limited-to-begin-with mental and creative acuity but hey, at least I'm not using this space to bitch about how busy I am (which I'm not which might be part of the problem though I'd never bitch about it because that's just fucking lame): no, I get to bitch about other things (like how T1D is nothing if not a disease of damned if you do, damned if you don't) so IDK pfffbt, fuck it, the day awaits.