It's hard when the weather's not your friend

One needs to be reminded of the great things happening, and not focus on the less-than-ideal occurrences, such as the project for website taking forever to get started, the bunch of strewn unassembled furniture that's causing stress, no fiction writing on these pages, and other things too, who knows, plus the lack of goddamn proper sleep because everything is messed up. This is the only post I'm writing tonight because don't feel like it, my sleep has been all messed up since earlier in the week due to mild stress and possible co2 poisoning because it's like some sort of disease, as soon as the clock strikes eight or nine in the evening, my eyes are heavy as a gold-smuggler's laptop bag and I don't feel like writing or staying up at all. Terrible, this all. Where does creativity come from in times like this, not possible, no chance for fiction writing because hell yeah if I could get a bunch of words out, any shit that's a big achievement, and this is already as good as it gets. Third day in a row, or is it the fourth, in which I've told myself, reminded over and over again I'm going to go to the coffee shop, draw, work on my website, write good stuff, but nothing good has come of it. Miserable times these are, low on energy, no opportunity to meet with friends and acquaintances and nothing to do, except sleep and get terribly terribly guilty about it. Sleep feels amazing, the most incredible, when it's the most forbidden. Like I'm never as refreshed on a weekday as on a weekday when I have an early-morning meeting that there's no possibility of sleeping through. What bullshit is this even. Ack.