I am stalled. I have a million brilliant ideas but none of them are making it on to the so-called page. It’s really frustrating. Still, I’ve managed to keep myself relatively busy. Instead of writing, I’ve been:
1. Eating Fun Size Twizzlers. It’s making my jaw hurt.
2. Folding laundry. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t fold laundry so this very odd behavior.
3. Scouring the internet for girls black boots with a sort of moto look to them. Because my 8-year-old really, really needs bad-ass moto boots, like, right now.
4. Reading other people’s blogs. This is actually a good use of my time because I might be inspired except that I’m distracted by the annoying fact that other people are somehow writing and what’s wrong with me that I’m not?! Curse you all and your daily posts!
5. Tweeting @RadioMadison at Alt Nation about pretty much anything. Today it was about plucking chin hairs and Morrissey. Really.
6. Adding tasks to my to-do list that I’ve already done but forgot to write down just so I can cross them off the list.
7. Wracking my brain for a not sappy way to write about how thankful I am for my kids because it’s November, the official Month of Gratitude, and I refuse to let it run out without an appropriately grateful post. As if I can’t be grateful any other month of the year. Only 12 more days left! Ack!
8. Cutting my bangs.
9. Nagging my husband to change the lightbulb/unload the dishwasher/take out the garbage/put the kids to sleep/take the dog out/blah, blah, blah. Because, you know, it’s his fault I’m not writing anything.
10. Wondering how long we can go without eggs. It’s been three days so far and I’ve only had one inquiry that went like this: “Where are the eggs?” to which I responded, “Dunno.” And that was the end of that. No moans, no groans. They know not to mess with mama when I haven’t been writing. Bless their little hearts.
That’s it. Wish me luck or whatever it is you wish for a writer who isn’t writing. I’ll take whatever I can get.