Not that I'm great now, don't get me wrong. There just once was a time where I wouldn't spend ten minutes wondering what the correct term for the end of a pen that doesn't write is, or if there's an actual word for that elastic thing girls use to make ponytails and I just don't know it, or how best to describe someones eyes moving while their head stays still. Once I could write two thousand words in an hour almost without stopping, rather than writing a hundred word paragraph which I then spend the next two hours editing while getting slowly more disgusted with myself. Back then, 'the house was about the size of an average sized house' didn't even make me blink. And I got a lot more **** done in those days.
Argh
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**R.O.B.A.Z.O.I.D**