Short take: I couldn't finish the project again.
Long take: Every time I tried to sit myself down to write, I couldn't do it. I felt no inspiration, no spark, could not find the words to commit to the story even though I *know* where I want that story - and several others I've left in limbo - to go.
I even took a few days off from work to see about getting a lot of the rough first draft done. Barely got a chapter out of it, and I'm not impressed with what I made.
I've been looking at myself in the mirror a lot lately, coming to terms with a few things, and at the top of the list is the realization that my depressive moods have returned. The pandemic anxiety, general loss of contact with friends in real life, and other unhappy truths about my lack of a social life seem to have left me drained.
So I am going back to the psychiatrists/psychologists to see what I can do to get myself out of this funk (again).
Just in case, if anybody's got a link to a Muse of inspiration, let me know what the arcane rituals are to summon one.
Alas.
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