The blank page in Diary

I just got done doing my writing for the day. Like I mentioned in my last entry, I did some reading beforehand. I was hungover and was not in the mood to read, but I did it anyway both because I thought it would be good for me and because I wanted to put off facing the blank page that is the beginning of every writing project for as long as possible. I read some of the Stephen King book, the book on salt-which is appropriately titled Salt- and I read some entries here on prosebox from random people.

Finally I forced myself to begin. And it was tough, but not as tough as I thought it would be. Plus, I gained momentum as I went along. At his point, enough of the story exists that I can basically let it write itself. But I still spend a lot of time looking at sentence structure and word choices, not like here. I’ll read through my entries once before I post them, and I’ll only do any edits if I write something exceptionally stupid or personal. Most of the time I’m this way.

I did a stupid again and stayed up all night. Of course that meant I slept in way too late. I’ve felt a bit like a zombie all day. It kind of sucks. I really, really need to break this habit. Maybe I’ll set my alarm tomorrow and force myself to get up and stay up no matter what. I know I’m a night owl, but this is getting ridiculous.

It’s just past quarter to 11 PM and I’m starting to feel a bit peckish. I guess I’ll run up and make some food. A grilled cheese sandwich is sounding good. Hmm....

I’m burned out from writing so I’ll end the entry here. Plus, hungry. Take care everyone. Bye for now.