I'm not sure if all the waiting is getting to me. Or if it's the lack of anything exciting to plan for and look forward to, but I feel blah. I'm in one of those moods where I can't summon the energy to be angry or excited or much of anything. Maybe I'm thinking too much. I have this great idea for a story, but writing chapter one is like hiking around your neighborhood for the tenth time in two days. It's boring. All I'm doing is putting words on a page. There's no emotion in it. There's no tension. No worry. It's blah because I can't summon the energy to pick up the pace and up the conflict. It's in my head, but it doesn't translate to the page.

Last night I started The Ambler Warning by Robert Ludlum. I couldn't put the book down for the first seventy-five or so pages. Starts out in a high security government mental institution on an island. Our hero is incarcerated there. He's not crazy, but they're keeping him drugged. A sympathetic nurse helps him by giving him her key card. He gets himself out of his cell, dresses as an orderly and goes down a laundry chute. Overpowers a supervisor and bluffs his way onto a boat. Once he gets to land he heads to his home. He learns he's been gone for 2 years and no one recognizes him. The men in the white coats show up and he steals their van and gets away. Goes to an internet cafe and discovers he no longer exists. Steals a car and drives to this piece of land he secretly bought only to find out the cabin he built no longer stands and someone is shooting at him. He overpowers the shooter, appropriates the guy's money, id and blackberry, then drives to a hotel where he looks in the mirror, doesn't recognize himself, and wonders if he truly is crazy. BAM! End of part one. Talk about a page turner. You don't exist, people are trying to kill you. Where do you go from here?

Oh well. Back to my boring little scene.

Today, I have no goal, achievement, I'm not grateful for anything and I don't have a quote. How are you doing?