Between the last two days, I've done a good day's worth of work. That's a little frustrating... Yesterday I got started on work late due to things like being lost in the woods, then had to stop early because a family member wanted to talk. I can't really regret those things happening, but it meant my "work for three hours" became "can you squeeze in an hour?"

I thought to make up for lost time today, but there was unexpected turmoil because the clinic that manages my mental health care is spontaneously going out of business. They gave two weeks notice, even they surely know that isn't enough time to find new care. I'll be fine; I'm actually in a pretty solid and stable place right now. But the announcement caused no small amount of excitement and I find myself tense and exhausted now.

It also probably doesn't help my speed that I'm actually adding a lot of stuff, nor that most of the that stuff is draining to write. Trying to portray Maggie's anxieties in a more elaborate and realistic way means I have to think about being in such situation myself, so I'm feeling anxious along with her. That hopefully means I'm doing a good job of it, but definitely means I fatigue faster than I normally do while revising.

So I've made less progress thus far this week than I wanted, but I did make progress. And every little bit counts.

Below is an unrelated image taken after I returned from being lost in the woods to discover that the Post Office had left me an empty envelope with stamps claiming it got to them that way. It seems somehow appropriate.

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