Too pooped to pop

Something my Mom used to say when we were frazzled.  And I find it still holds true.  Yesterday was a busy lovely day of the foul-mouthed merc and Patty Wagon for dinner.
Then, instead of actually resting, I found myself awake more than asleep last night/this morning.
I'm so paying for it.

Editing my second book.  I stop at a spot where I'm adding a bridge scene to link two different scenes, and all I could think about was laying my head down on the bed in my office/The Sanctuary and sleeping for a couple of hours.
Not too mention I forgot an important couple of pieces of paper at the day job.
So that all greatly inhales.

I'm just so damn tired.

Instead of finishing the edit, I think I may watch a mindless movie or read a book.  I'd like to watch "Rogue Nation" again.  I own it.  Thanks, Honey.  Or I could read the latest Rainbow Rowell.  Or maybe I could watch "The Magicians" on-demand.  The Lev Grossman books are brilliant.

Yet here I sit.  Brain-dead and too tired to do much about it.  I don't want to lose two or three hours of my day sleeping.  But I don't know if I have the werewithal to do much of anything else.

Last Sunday I wrote 5000 words.  This Sunday?  I'll be lucky not to drool on myself with my eyes open.

Grins*