A new week is breathing down my neck, and last week I didn't complete even one writing session. In fact, I've finished the week exhausted and wearied rather than ready to leap, refreshed, into the next one. The baby is sapping my energy and it's a frenetic time of year - even when Grandmothers don't manage to squeeze in a 90th.
I wondered whether to lower my expectations and only plan for two, rather than three, writing sessions next week. But I decided in the end that it's better to aim high and miss than aim lower...and probably still miss. I suppose, with that in mind, I ought to go to bed ready for Monday.
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