This morning I walked into the hallway and looked at my desk. I was mad at myself for not sitting there to write and instead spending the morning in bed, even though I did write there.

I stopped myself from going off the rails with the negativity and asked myself this question: would you rather write or spend my limited energy on getting dressed and sitting in the office being uncomfortable, achy and out of breath?

The answer to that question was so easy: I want to write. That’s it.

There are so many stories about writers having weird places to write in, well… In winter, I like to write in bed.

Winter usually brings flare-ups of my health issues, and lower energy levels, and I choose to spend it the way I mostly love: by writing.

It’s raining and yes, I’m writing this post in bed with my laptop in my lap, wearing fingerless gloves to type with, knit those myself, in fact. I’m wearing a warm hoodie, am under two blankets, and next to me a daylight lamp keeps the SAD at bay.

I’m warm, both my health issues are acting up, but it doesn’t matter because…

I write.

Best way to spend my day.