Grinding my teeth while working. Finding myself solving the same problems over and over. Feels like Groundhog Day. I used to think I couldn’t work if I didn’t enjoy it, but I guess I’ve gained enough momentum that I wouldn’t know what to do if I tried to relax. Gym and meditation forgone the past few days, but in this state I don’t even know if it would be useful.

I feel on autopilot, and I need things to remain this way. Any inspiration or expansion of consciousness could make be go off-track. No distraction is enticing enough to rouse my curiosity. My inner landscape is dry. My neck hurts and music irritates me. Dreams happen, but they are distant. This work requires no imagination, so my state is adequate.

This dissociative bypass may come at a great cost if done for long. I will hurry through these monotonous badlands.