I must not stay up past midnight for another year. This shit is terrible for me.

I am not only a mass of aches and knots and weariness, but I am all that with stuff to do and a significant lack of coffee.

I'm breaking it into small and manageable pieces, today. Ere I sat down to blog, I made sure the sink was clear and the dishes washed. When I finally rise from my writing, I will sweep the floors and make Mayhem do all the picking up because I can't bend myself to save my soul right now.

I may enlist help with the laundry, too.

I gotta keep at the housework or it will pile up on me and get away from me and my dear Friendo, now safe and sound back in Tullagawoopwoop, will be cross with me.

I also gotta keep writing because it might eventually pay off, one day. I may yet attract more generous souls willing to purchase my entire bibliography in one hit [yeah I know it was technically last year, but that one person made an impression].

Aaaand I gotta find some time to work on my side projects because my head is my only source of notes for those little shits.

And I definitely gotta look after myself because of the aforementioned mass of aches and knots and weariness.

Where's some big burly blokes to look after me when I need them? The nearest one is still napping.