Rough draft blues.

Rough draft, rough draft, it's just a rough draft, I tell myself. So, why can't I stop tweaking? What's with the poking, prodding, word rearrangement, anxiety about sentence structure---is this awkward, does this make sense, should it be "disgust" or "repulsion," what is his eagle owl's naaaame?

I have a deadline, here, for god's sake!

Nitpick, nitpick, nitnitnitnit---just write!

And I'm hungrrrrrryy. What are you eating today?

EDIT: There is an owl outside my window, and he won't shutthefuckup.

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Rough draft blues.

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