It's Sunday night. I like Sundays. They're full of praise and worship and people and fun and general good stuff. I'm wearing purple sparkly eyeliner because it's that sort of day.
Tomorrow is Monday. I'm feeling a little trepidatious about Monday. I want to go to the library and do useful work. So that is what I shall try to do. I'm scared though. That's what I tried to do last week. I managed to write stuff on Monday and Tuesday, freaked out and barely tried on Wednesday and Thursday, got to the library and wrote about one sentence before panicking on Friday. Still, in the previous umpteen weeks, I'd done nothing, so that's got to be progress, right?