Tuesday I'd managed to put in over an hour on revisions and editorial tasks, mostly connected to METAtropolis: Green Space. This after a week+ lost to JayCon and related festivities, overlapped with six days of not having my MacBook Air available to me. "Yay," I said to myself, "I am back on the horse."
Then yesterday I spent the entire day dealing with either Day Jobbery or the disability application process or visiting the doctor. My energy is not what it was, and neither is my efficiency. By the time all this was done, around 5 pm, I was simply too exhausted to then deal with writing.
Mind you, I used to be able to work all day and write all evening. Not so much anymore.
The scary part is that I already know this is how my writing will end. I will simply peter out, too tired one day to put the time in, then the next, then the next, while the brain fog of chemo and cancer settles in ever deeper until one day I'll realize I haven't done anything in a month, and there aren't very many months left for me to live.
So every time I miss a day, I wonder if this is the beginning of the end for my writing. Yesterday wasn't that day, I do know this. But it sure felt similar.