I am supposed to write. Especially on those days that I spend doing nothing except catching up on re-runs of Jerry Springer and two and a half men (earlier Charlie Sheen series only) but nothing happens. I have writers block.

writers blockThe dusting and the vacuuming can wait because it will only be dirty again tomorrow and they never were my favourite tasks anyway so I ignore them. I know the block is in my head and no place else.

It’s a weird transition. That time between leaving work and taking up the position of paid writer. Actually making the move into being paid is the biggest hurdle and plays a huge part in my writers block I fell although that could just be me making excuses…again.

Life drifts by one slow day after another and nothing gets written but at least I know what happened to the long lost sister of the catholic priest who found his best friend’s cousin in bed with the gardener. At least I am up to date with how many times he cheated on his wife with her sister and at least I have a fair idea what’s about to happen with Charlie and Chelsea. I do feel sorry for Alan, at least I take comfort in the fact that someone’s life is more of a disaster than mine right now. Not that I want to appear dramatic you understand.

The ironing gets done and so does the washing up. I have munched my way through a packet of chocolate chip cookies and drank six cups of coffee (the 12 spoons of sugar kick in and I feel quite high) all before lunch. This can be a frustrating life.

 

 

Subscribe To Stay In Touch

Join our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates about health, fitness, longevity and more. For those interested in having life in their years.

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This