Is it the ever-growing stack of work I have to do which has produced my funk? Or has the funk created the looming pile of tasks? I am not sure which started first, but I know I don't particularly like it. My energy levels can return from wherever it was they ran and hid anytime now, kthxbai.
Lately, I've been waking up at 5:00 every morning. This is because my bedroom faces due east (and even if it didn't, I have two cats who would come tell me as soon as the sun was up), and we're in that tricky month before daylight savings kicks in. Probably this has had some negative effect on the energy levels. This morning, by dint of general weariness and the kind of serious effort you can only put in when you've had decades of practicing at sleeping when it's not required, I managed to sleep in … all the way to 6:45.
There is something wrong with life when 6:45 is a sleep-in.
The novel is still misbehaving, and I'm not sure whether it's the funk or the novel, or some combination of both. I'm actually toying with the idea of putting it aside for a while, working on some short stories or a different novel, while my brain unsticks. If I had any confidence in my brain actually getting down to work on the unsticking of things, that is.