Today's Muse: Popping Basketballs

I sit here, staring at this screen, drinking something that burns each time it travels down my throat, and does painful things to my stomach. I really ought to get some water instead.

I destroyed the third draft of An Exercise in Obsession an hour ago.

As I look over my notes for the gazillionth time, crossing out points and reworking others with a scratchy red pen (I really ought to get a new pen.), I wonder dully, why am I putting myself through this? It's been months since I embarked on this project. And still nothing.

There's a five-dollar note in my wallet.

I ought to sleep more.