It is exhausting being so unhappy. I’m trying to choose not to be, but then I remember what I wanted out of life, or that my baby boy is no longer sitting in my lap, or my baby girl isn’t walking across my desk during online meetings and I’m sad all over again.

It’s so draining. The lack of sleep doesn’t help. The constant drama.

Once upon a time, I wanted a wild life – rock star excess, drowning in a sea of creativity, good times and women.

Now, I’d be happy with a quiet life, filled with compassionate, intelligent people and a good book. And sex. A boy has to have some vices.

Anyway, big day. To work.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 9100 words, novella: The Mungk