I wasn’t supposed to write today. I needed a break, I told myself. Instead, I’ve spent the day cleaning my office from top to bottom, rearranging every piece of furniture that I can physically move. I’ve enjoyed a cup of hot tea in my newly arranged space wondering what to do next while my laptop sits nearby. “Why aren’t you writing?” It whispers to me. The truth is that not writing the last two days has sent me adrift. Crazy, right? But after 31 days of slicing, I have formed a new pattern to my days. “Normal” is pondering what to write, freewriting/typing to discover a topic while wondering what others are writing. “Aren’t you glad to be finished?” several family members have asked…