I sit down to write, staring at a blank page. Nothing comes to mind. Writer's block has me again. I envision a story but it just won't unfold. My fingers freeze up on the keyboard as I stare out the window. The window becomes a distraction, the distraction becomes an obsession. Next thing I know I'm learning new recipes or shoveling the snow. An hour long writing session becomes a five hour do it yourself project on the plumbing I know nothing about. I can't stand writers block because I hate physical labor. Every time I get the fog in my noggin it turns into another failed project around the house. Six hundred dollars later I wish I would have just called an expert for my project and stayed in my place writing my book.
I get sidetracked easily. I love to write, it's a passion of mine. Articles, opinion pieces...did I remember to put the clothes in the dryer. I wonder if Siberia is cold today. I'm sure the President said something memorable today. Anyways, back to my point. Where was I going with this?
Oh, that's right, I was trying to get through my writers block. Speaking of blocks, there's these people on my block who procrastinate on everything. It drives me crazy. They never get around to mowing their lawn, they keep old pieces of furniture in front of their garage. Wait a minute that's in front of my house. I had better take care of that...but I forgot I am trying to finish this little ditty.
Today the page isn't blank but the projects are all on hold. I need to do the dishes, get the laundry in the dryer, put gas in the car, and write some of my novel. So much to do so little time. Plus, a wandering mind fights to prioritize but it can't because of this writers block. Its got me discombobulated, confused beyond confusion. Should I work on my books, clean the house, or just veg out? As you can tell I've done nothing but write this confusing little tale. This is what happens when writers block controls the brain.