Monday, March 8, 2010

Brain Dead.




Being busy at work mixed with kids and a co-dependent significant other makes it next to impossible to write or even think of writing. My characters won't talk to me anymore. It's safe to say they hate my guts. They are probably at a bar right now having a pitcher of New Castle discussing what a flake I am. I even think they are avoiding my text messages.

Rapidly I am losing hope. Everyday I say to myself "Today you will write!" and theres always a reason I don't. Let me paint a better picture for you so I don't look like such a lagger. I am tired. Not just tired but extremely monstrously tired. It's everyday, not just a certain part of the day. I cannot catch up with myself. I have self-diagnosed chronic fatigue and mild obsessive compulsive disorder. If I didn't have kids I would live in a small attic in London looking over a landfill. Just depressing enough to get some good writing done.

So here I am at work, sitting dis-tractable at my oversized oak/particle board desk. My hair is screaming for a brush and my McDonald coffee is getting dangerously cold. I hear the typing of keyboards floating out of the other offices, the transferring of meaningless calls. My manuscript is in a file in my documents folder...will I open it? Do I dare to write only to give up for some frivolous reason?

You bet I will.

3 comments:

  1. Writing is not an option tis a must!!!
    You will find that your creative heat for writing perhaps a bit tangled now with the living thing going on,, when those items are taken under control, that dim pilot light of your relentless flame will once again flicker to life,refresh,and renew your thoughts.
    In the words of famous writer,Gertrude Stein,"I have the syrup, but it will not pour."
    I do get around, do I not???
    Without Wax, (look it up)
    Mad Hatter

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  2. You need to write because this little tiny post is utterly inspiring. I mean, sheesh! You have a talent for it! But I hear you about the exhaustion. I can NEVER catch up. I am running to stand still. Twenty-four hours a day and it sucks. I always say I'm going to take time for me. But there's always something else or someone else that needs something more. So writing never comes first. IT doesn't come last, either. Laundry comes last. Please ignore the spot on my shirt.

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  3. Yes, I hate laundry to. Enough said about that. But Im glad to know that someone out there is struggling to have time to write.

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