I'm actually afraid to be in front of Tanthalas (my PC, that is). Because once I'm here, I have this tendency to continue writing and writing and writing and..., you get the idea. I love writing, yet I know my body's limitation. I have to rest.
But if I decide to go to the bedroom to rest, a bundle of cloth always manages to tempt me. Sighing, I usually succumb to the temptation, sewing the cloth to form a baby's blanket. Or, a book I just received today, written by Terry Pratchett, entices me to at least admire it.
My mind is restless, thinking of many things at the same time.
Ah. Time to meditate again.