Blockages? Or bordom?

I have worked really hard not be one of those writers who claims writer’s block and has to retire to a dark room with a cold washcloth and a pint of every girl’s ideal threesome – Ben and Jerry. But some days, words on certain projects just come easier than others. And today with two essays on my own work staring me in the face, I find myself ready to go and redo the two-hour workout I just finished in order to avoid the dreaded blinking cursor.

I’ve tried all my usual tricks: switch between projects, change up the music, take a walk, doing laundry and dishes, and just flat tying myself to the laptop, but nothing seems to work for this. I need to just suck it up and write, but it is so much easier to find ways not to. Like pounding my head against the wall. That sounds like a lot more fun than writing four pages on the experience of working under this poet. But it is a learning curve. Life is all about knocking out the shit you don’t fucking wanna do, but doing it anyway to get to the fun stuff. I did the fun stuff first today (if you can count reading 25 pages of Bleak House, followed by a 30 minute walk and 90 minutes of weight training as fun) and now am shoveling the shit I’ve let pile up. It would be so much more fun if the shit were literal rather than proverbial. Oh well. We can’t always have that much fun out in the barn.

Sadly.

Cheers! ~Ax~