Okay, I’m here. I’m looking at the computer screen. I’m drumming my fingers. I’m tapping my foot. And nothing’s happening. There’s no spark, no enthusiasm, just a general full-body malaise. So you know what? Adios, I’m out of here.
Surely I can find something better to do on a damp, gray winter afternoon. I have a great book, a nice selection of movies, video games, there’s plenty to eat and drink, so forget this nonsense. I’m bored out of my flipping mind. Truth be told, the thought of finishing even this crummy paragraph starts a loud, monotonous buzzing in my head. Does that happen to you? Does the thought of constructing even one more sentence sometimes make you long for a lobotomy?
Well, that’s where I am now. I’m questioning my sanity, wondering why a grown person would park in front of a computer for years and decades of prime living time fretting about the most appropriate words to use in snarly grammar situations? That’s borderline masochism if you ask me. What kind of lunatic does that? Heh, I do.
But not today. Today I’m stepping away. I need to recharge, fill the old tank, get fired up again. Oh, why lie? I need an attitude adjustment — in fact, I’m long, long overdue. I haven’t been hitting on all cylinders for weeks. Maybe months. Come on, be honest, that isn’t exactly news, now, is it? So, please bear with me …
copyright © 2018 the whirly girl