No writing. But the most terrifying thing happened. Granted, I have a bad cold right now. Still, I tossed and turned all night with procedural nightmares about my book. It was like one of those dreams you have about work where you’re typing in numbers, except here that long list of world building and plot concerns hounded me in my dreams.
I’ve never had this happen before. I don’t know if I should be concerned, or excited that writing has become this important. It is very weird though. I woke up and didn’t know what to do with it all. I was out of sorts a good part of the day. Could it be a manifestation of some manic phase? Some other mental issue I should address? Or regular creative process?
By the end of the day I made a bunch of notes addressing a number of items on the “list”, so in that respect it was productive. It has had lingering effects on my mood though.