It's 2021 already and I still haven't recovered from 2020. The worst part is, things are still happening in 2021. Honestly, I'm just tired.

I'm not sure I'm going to keep publishing. I used to pride myself for keeping to a writing schedule and being able to push myself to write and finish this chapter, or draft, or whatnot. Then last year happened, and I wasn't expecting basically any of it. It's funny how you can take people for granted without knowing that that's what you've done until they're gone.

This last shorter romance was supposed to be out at the end of last summer. I pushed it to the end of the year. And then the new year. And then...

I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be able to finish Missing Her. I can't make any sort of promises until I remember how to breathe deeply again.