I felt so lethargic yesterday, really and truly crappy. I figured I wouldn't be able to write a coherent sentence, but I needed some office time, so at seven o'clock I dragged my ass and laptop up the stairs. I was going to take it easy, probably do some free writing, maybe lie back in the stinky recliner and let my mind wander, definitely listen to some music, which I can't do while I'm seriously writing.
I released the pressure to justify the office time with measurable progress. I typed in some notes while listening to Yahoo! radio. Opened the document containing my plot bullets and wrote a few sentences. And a few more. I looked up at the clock and saw an hour had passed, looked down at my computer screen and realized I'd accidentally written the entire one-page synopsis.
Coming out of the zone, I wondered what had happened to my music, but I'd turned it off at some point. Going over what I'd just written, I saw I'd also cleared up a few problematic names, and filled some long-standing plot holes. Accidentally. Don't even remember doing it.
That's so effing cool.