I’m thirsty.

I’m thirsty, and there are weeds in my garden that I can see from the study window.

I’m thirsty; there are weeds in my garden that I can see from the study window; and the protagonist of my novel has a major character-development problem that will be devilishly hard to fix. I’ll probably have to rewrite the first four chapters. Again.

I think I’ll go get a bottle of cold water out of the fridge.

I think I’ll do that and then put on my gardening shoes and go out and pull some weeds while the ground is still soft.

Who knows–maybe by then it will be time for dinner.