This morning I went to the botanical garden and spoke with one of the plant experts. We talked about night blooming plants. I have this sort of idea for an essay, but it requires scraping a lot of what I have already written. I don't know if I can write the idea that's in my head in the next couple of days--or at all, if I don't. I've perhaps waited too long.
In any case, I plugged away at it for an hour, and nearly finished the book I'm going to review next.
Overall, I am pretty disappointed in my work ethic and commitment lately. I want to knit and read and go running. But I can't do those things: I'm supposed to be writing. So instead, I sit at the computer for hours and curse my inability to write. There are too many distractions here, I just need to get away.