I’m feeling restless. This isn’t the time I’m usually writing. Who am I kidding? “Usually” doesn’t really apply since I just started this writing habit on Monday. Maybe it’s because instead of my usual cup of tea I’ve got a glass of iced tea. Or maybe it’s that it’s daylight and I usually write in the evening. I have the shade open on the window my desk is in front of. I thought I might be inspired by the wee birds flitting around the trees and bushes outside the window. But it’s a bit hard to see them through the smudged glass which is in serious need of a cleaning. Yet I’m not inspired to clean it.