Monday Morning

I want to crawl into a hole and die.

Eighteen hours of writing, and my Philosophy short story is all of five pages long. It needs to be at least five pages longer; ten more would be good, but I'd need twenty to really tell this story.

Around 1 AM this morning, I walked into a Porcupine. (I didn't actually step on him or get stuck, but it was close.) These are the dangers of living in a log cabin without plumbing...

At that moment precisely, it occurred to me that the first two pages of my story were all wrong, and after I returned to the computer I deleted and re-wrote those two pages. Then I sat down to re-read a chapter from the text and fell asleep.
It's almost nine o'clock now; I think I could wrap this story up before 4 this afternoon but I've got to help a drama group with theatre setup from noon until sometime this evening.

Groans of deep despair are not a good idea in the computer lab unless you like puzzled and unsympathetic staring.