At the end of the draft and completely exhausted but can't sleep, fueled with some kind of anxiety that always grips me at the end of each story, so I pull myself forward by the hair and just sit out the writing hours, taking what comes (if anything).
So I sat out 6 hours today and wrote only 701 words and cut out 4.8K words and now I'm dead and will try to nap, and maybe my fucking mind will finally shut up and oblige me. So pray for me. PRAY FOR THE SALVATION OF MY RESTLESS SOUL. Or come over and pump me with vodka. Maybe that will work better.