I hate the way my writing sounds lately.
There was a time when I could spend an hour or two on a paragraph, a story, or poem or something; then give up for a while, but I always saved it. That way in case I had more inspiration a little later I could finish it. Not lately. I spent two hours this afternoon on a ‘short creative piece’ that was an assignment for an online class I’m taking. I reread it and then promptly hit delete and shut down the program.
I think my muse is pissed at me. Since I’ve been making an effort to drink less alcohol and more water, I’m guessing she is going through withdrawals.