Sometimes it just isn’t easy to write. Sometimes it is. This is one of the former.
I don’t know what has been going on recently, but both Jean and I seem to be in a bit of a non-active funk. And damnit, I am getting anxious again. I need to do something more than just watch episodes of House, Lost, Insider, and Medium. The thing is, the words just aren’t coming. I think TV is causing brain damage.
Work has been quite hectic recently.
See what I mean. I should have been able to turn a better phrase than that. Something like: Bogged down with the idiocy of development by committee and product management tyrannically dictating release dates and features from across the globe, I have been belabouring the obvious point of communication between our respective departments. Only today, nearly a week after I began a case regarding licensing, did I finally obtain the clarification necessary to provide my users with valid information that won’t cost us business. Yeah, I know. Woe is me. In the larger picture, I have relatively little to complain about, so what I do have seems bigger to me in the present.
What I do need to find is my muse. I need creativity to come bite me in the nether regions and let go only once sated. The problem, dear readers, is more sinister I fear. Not only have I misplaced my muse, but my base motivation is severely waning. I just don’t feel like moving my over-abundant self off of the davenport to actually DO something. Gods forbid. With the weather getting more furnace like with every day now, I fear any sense of motivation will be entirely consumed by exhaustion from the daily drone of fixing problems, or melted away while I take in the latest indie film on IFC.
You may be thinking, as you sit there reading with soda in hand, “but you’re writing now, isn’t THAT something?” And I would have to agree to a point. Sadly, though, I have forced myself to sit here and wax on about the mundanity of my life only in a vain grasp to retain any level of creativity which may still stir within. And that is bordering on pathetic.
The good news is tomorrow is Friday and this weekend should be full of fun with friends. Of course, I am hoping that it isn’t ALL fun, since I would love to get out of town for a bit, just me and my bike, for a nice long ride to relax, think and chase down that damn whore of a muse who has apparently begun selling her wares all around town while leaving none for me. But I digress.
I’m not going to bore you with details of my plans. Because, honestly, while I will enjoy myself immensely, they bore me to write about. Perhaps soon I will have been able to work into words all the things going through my head recently. A lot is going on up there, though it wouldn’t seem like it to even the most observant. I’m crafty like that.
I just hope I don’t forget, cause, ya know, I have a habit of doing that…. Ooh, look. CSI is on!
Perhaps it IS brain damage.