The problem with days off--nonwriting days, anyway--is that because I have arraned my life so it has great swaths of clear time in which I normally, you know, write--because that's what keeps the wolf from the door--when I decide not to write, and my little brain is kind of stiff and noncompliant because I have been using it hard, so it doesn't want to do other stuff, and I live alone so there's nobody to distract me....
I get really bored by bedtime.
So now I'm bored, and it's bedtime. And I guess I'd better hope that my brain figures out what the next scene is in its slumber, because I can't figure out what I'd be doing with my life on Sunday. And, you know, being bored is boring.
Good night, Internets. try not to kill each other when my back is turned.