I am beginning to realize that my life as a married woman is boring. I don't mean that in a bad sense, but in a sense that there is so much that passes between D-man and me that is just meant for the two of us. Or that other people wouldn't particularly care about.

Also, I have to admit that I am either a perfectionist or my own worst critic (or both). As a result, my writing isn't getting a lot of attention these days -- not even the introspective kind. Life now involves regularly interacting with at least one other person, and that means that introspection doesn't get a lot of time. Stress and epiphanies come and go without any motivation to put them on paper. The desire not to be interrupted if I happen to be in the middle of a great writing session trumps the desire to write. And so, I don't. Hopefully more inspiration will come soon!