The writer has been a pain since she woke up Sunday and proclaimed that her book is bad. Frankie is concerned. The writer is whining and grumpy because the writer is not doing the things that make her happy. Frankie knows that writing at either the stand up desk or the pub table in the spare room with Frankie at her feet are the best thing for the writer. Why does she never listen to the pug?
Now it is the middle of the week, which is not too different than the beginning or the end, and the writer is still spiraling. However, Frankie thinks the bleeding has stopped. The writer packs up her favorite pens and notebooks and tells Frankie she can fix this. She is not giving up. Not ever, that Frankie should not worry. And then the writer leaves.
Oh, the pug wants her routine restored and her bed (the writer calls its a couch) restored to her. The writer gets in the way of her favorite position during her evening nap. Hopefully the writer will return to her desk or pub table tonight. Maybe. Frankie will discuss it with her walker at lunch time.