Why Don't You Leave Your Name and Number and I'll Get Back To You?
You ever have one of those blogging days, when, despite there being no end of stories to tell and theories to expound and confessions to make, the muse just refuses to come sit with you and so you just end up staring at your computer screen, your mind blank and your fingers still?
Or maybe your fingers aren't still. Maybe you subscribe to that school of writing thought that says that even when uninspired you must still write just write just keep tap-tap-tapping at the keyboard until the sentences start running kind of like starting a stalled car by pushing it down a hill and pumping the gas until the motor kicks in and you're on your way or even if you're not on your way it doesn't really matter because at least you were writing and the important thing is to write write write and keep writing, right?
Except that that never really works, and you just end up producing bad stream-of-consciousness babble.
Or maybe you just keep starting sentences but inevitably end up backspacing to delete them because the full force of their mediocrity hits at, oh, about the second or third or fourth or - if you were maybe kinda onto something except that actually no you weren't - ninth word:
Mother's Day sucked because...
Phallic Lovey is missing and all hell has broken loose and...
So maybe you've typed and deleted at least umpteen hundred words by now and are just feeling, like, blaaaah, yech, STUCK and need to bail on this whole writing thing for the day so that your head doesn't blow off and make a big icky mess that you're just going to have to clean up yourself anyway.
Ever have one of those days? I'm having one of those days. I had one of those days yesterday, too. I may have one again tomorrow. I'll let you know.
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