Ah, another two days wasted, and my deadline fast approaching. I have been trying for the last couple minutes to work on the story, but it is just not working. I don't know where to take the story from where it is at right now, and it is bother the hell out of me, not knowing what should happen next. Also, I have become incredibly self-conscious about the act of writing, which is just making it impossible to get anywhere in it. Sentences are just not flowing out, and when I try to force them I don't feel right about them. Ugh. It's an ugly business.
I think the problem is that I had kind of reached, without noticing it, the limits of the previous combustion of words, and now I am on to trying to game out what comes after that. I am having to make actual plot decisions, and before I was just setting up the, uh, setting, so to speak.
Now I am feeling ornery and stifled. This will learn me to put off the necessary. I am creating bad vibes solely out of my own impetus. Still, that's a good thing. I need to start working on creating some system of self-discipline, or else I will never get anywhere, with this or in any other context.