I take my specs off and attempt to clean it yet another time. My frustration grows as I still fail to pinpoint exactly where the smudge on the lens is at. This dim bedroom lighting is definitely not helping.
Staring at the laptop late at night like this is a challenge, and I feel as though it is getting worse lately. At times, it feels like I have to strain my eyes just to focus on what's on the computer screen.
I've just sipped up the last few dregs of my homemade iced coffee. I'm now savouring as much as I can of the remaining ice cubes in my glass. I'm popping one into my mouth every few minutes, sucking it till they dissolves into water once more that trickles down my throat.
My husband is snoring. My sons are asleep too. It's 4+am in the morning. And I am trying to work. But concentration is hard to come by. And my progress seems so slow.
The deadline for this copyedit job is creeping up in just a few days.
Meanwhile, I fleetingly consider how behind I am in writing the manuscript I'd hope to submit for this novel writing contest that ends in April.
Sometimes, I wonder... what good are these ambitions? And are they truly as important to achieve as I think they might be? I always believed that God had put in me this desire to write. To delve into all things editorial.
I suppose it won't be long more before I ultimately find out how true all of that was. It's been many years. And only God knows how many there will be left.
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