Words: Disheveled Daily Prose:

I had several people tell me last night, "Hey you're not playing up to your game. You look tired out there." OK, they got me. They're right! I was tired. Low energy in hockey is like low energy in writing. Paragraphs don't come easy. A sentence takes longer to form. The editing process becomes something like a late-in-the-third-period jelly-legs moment where you can't get back in time to defend your goal. You want to quit. You want to give up. But do you let your team down? The me, myself, and Irene of your personality is telling you you're a no-good writer who won't amount to anything. Sounds like a coach trying to light a fire under your twinkle-toes. It often works. You get a second wind. The rally comes. There's a flurry of skating, a flurry of writing, a flurry of ideas; goals get scored...on both sides. In the end, you're a tired mess. You want to sleep. You want to throw off your skates. You peel off the layers as if you really did champion the arena ala Maximus gladiator supreme. Mentally in writing it's done the same. Layers are peeled away after a strong stint of writing. It's not boxing. There's no knock-out that can cometh in round uno. You had to finish the game no matter what. And you did, and now you sleep, and tomorrow, if you're lucky, it all happens again and again.