A scrap worried

I got home last night and cooked supper, feeling really keen to get my nose into my writing; and then I didn't.  I looked at the state things are in and I thought "I don't know how to do this!".  My imagination had fallen asleep, or eaten too much stodgy food, or something.  I had nothing to bring to the next scene but my sudden, irrational panic at the absence of the Muse. 

I don't believe she's gone far.  I also don't believe this story is fully Muse-driven any more.  It has been rolling steadily for three months, for goodness sakes.  I think it has developed its own internal power source.  So I'm not quite sure why I funked out like that.  Maybe I'm tired (it was a hectic weekend).

I figured there was no use in fighting it, and churning out something I'd only have to rewrite anyway.  So I ate my margarita pizza with added mushrooms, and beetroot and tomato salad with garlic dressing, and I watched "University Challenge and "Only Connect", and scored myself against the competing teams for both; and won both.  Hurrah; my brain isn't completely offline, then.  The trivia-retrieval system is working just fine. 

Tonight I'm meant to be going out to a "do" in support of a charity an old friend of mine founded.  So I am hoping that two evenings off in a row will give the story time to re-gel, and I can come back to it on Wednesday evening and think "Aha!"  And write my socks off all evening.