I’ve been struggling with what to write this week. I’ve been thinking about a few things but nothing that I’m going to put on the internets. I think it’s my preoccupation with these things that is making it hard for me to focus on what I’m actually willing to put out there.
I’ve been feeling off lately as far as my writing is concerned. I want to be creative. I want to write something, but nothing is forthcoming and what’s more is I’m not feeling any pressure to put anything out there. I’ve started calling it “the drain” because it’s not like I’m blocked. Writer’s block has always been frustrating for me, but with this there’s no frustration just a quiet resignation.
That scares me a little, because writing has always been a big part of who I am and if I’m not writing how can I call myself a writer? A writer writes. A writer doesn’t just sit staring a blank page thinking “Aw well, whatever.” A writer rages against that empty page! But not me.
Maybe it’s because it’s summer. Summer has always been my favorite season, even in the sweltering desert where temperatures would easily reach above 100 degrees. Summer has always been a time of rest for me. Even when I’ve had a “regular person job.” Things just seem to move a little slower during the summer. You take vacations, you relax in the sunshine sipping iced coffee.
So I guess I’ll blame this lack of motivation on sunshine and summertime. And you all will just have to suffer through the crappy posts…sorry about that.