Ack. So far behind. Not getting any writing done. Trying not to stress.

We’re having a good time, though.

I feel terribly disconnected from the world. Oddly, not because I haven’t been keeping up with e-mail or journals, because I’ve logged on every other day. But because I’m not writing, either in the journal or on fiction. I don’t like this feeling. I’m not used to not being able to write. I know I’m choosing to spend time with my family, whom I see infrequently due to the distances. But still. By the time we go to bed, I’m sleepy enough not to want to write. As it is, Ken went to bed half an hour ago and I’ve popped onto e-mail and the internet, and now I’m going to join him.

With any luck, I’ll be able to maintain this feeling when we get back, and use my writing time to its maximum potential.