Blocked
So here I am, 2:18 in the morning, and I’m entirely blocked on writing, well, anything. Can’t deal with the fiction, can’t deal with the paper, can’t deal with the responses to the short stories I’m supposed to be writing for later today. I’m screwed, basically.
So what do I do in this situation? Just about what anyone else would do in this situation: work on something entirely different. In this case, it’s my website. Considering I haven’t done anything for it in ages, it’s about time I got back to it. The idea is that the juices will start flowing and continue flowing for a bit longer.
I’ve been working an extreme amount lately, so by the time I get off work I don’t want to do anything but laze around for a few hours. It’s not a good thing at all. By the time I try to crack down and start my work (which, regardless of whether it’s entirely a good thing or not, now revolves around words that describe rather than issue instructions), I’ve wasted too much time to get anything done. Or I’m too tired to put together a coherent sentence. Currently, I’ve had to go back and delete something about every other word I’ve written, which is not a good thing when you’ve got a lot to write. It’s also not a good thing when you’re working in notepad again, which doesn’t have anything fancy like a “spellchecker” to tell you when things have gone wrong.
Anyway, there’s no need for random stuff like this, which is boring. Hopefully I can get my act together in regards to writing regularly, even if it is just more tripe on the web that no one wants to read. The idea is to do more stuff like reviews, fictional stuff and, yes, the Short Humor Essays that I haven’t written in a long time (and has a better reputation than they deserve credit for. Tonight, however, is just playing around with HTML again some. And yes, there’s a very good chance that this is the last time I’ll update this for another month and a half. There’s also a very good chance that no one else is reading this. But whatever. None of that really matters. Stuff always happens eventually, and if it doesn’t happen here, there’s a whole internet full of it that you can go read.
And for those of you who miss the quick, one-line observational humor things I used to do:
Five years and three months since I first posted something to the web and I still can’t get a date.