The responsibility of writing when you have nothing to write about really does feel like this sometimes -- like two enemies at a total standstill. Only, it's not as dramatic as warring nations. It's more like two middle school BFFs in a silent argument over godknowswhat. I mean, Writing and I are usually friends. We talk late into the night about ridiculous things, we defend each other, we joke about getting glamour shots together. It's a real, genuine bond. So I don't know what I said, or did, or thought (obviously, Writing can read my thoughts), but all of a sudden, Writing just doesn't show up when I need her to. See, this metaphor isn't even particularly clever. What the hell, Writing?
And no joke, between writing that paragraph and starting this one, I got up to get some water, sat down determined to write something of value, and my chair broke in the most painful way possible.
So seriously, screw writing. It's been a real pain in the ass (literally). I'm going to go read instead. And then go to the gym forever.
