What She Had Promised Herself Never To Do

She only had 24 minutes left until midnight. She had no idea what to write about so she took the way out she had promised herself she'd never take. To write about not knowing what to write about. Looking up something for inspiration and creating whole new characters, however flat they might be during the 15 minutes she had to create them, just seemed like too big a task. Hadn't she had just about 5 hours to write something clever? And had she wasted tbose five hours? She had indeed. As she seemed to always do with the posts, she left them until late in the evening, when she'd actually promised herself to stop looking at night in order to sleep better. She could've tried with a poem but if anybody ever actually read any of these posts it seemed too easy to publish two poems two days in a row. Eventually she admitted defeat and just started writing what she is writing about now. Or just before. Because she just wrote that. And then she thought about how the reader obviously knew that it is me who's writing, so writing in third person might make me come across as quite schizophrenic, a reader might think.