I am faced with a nasty case of writer’s block. To me writer’s block is like heartburn, it’s something I didn’t think existed until I got it.
Pregnancy + nachos = heartburn. You people weren’t making that up and I am sorry I ever thought you were. It’s no fun.
And now I must apologize to all those writer’s who I thought were making up a block. I am sorry, writer’s block is real and it freaking sucks. I’m blaming an obnoxious overly pessimistic inner editor.
Here’s how the diagnosis went down-
Last week I spent some time loading up Peace, Love and Muesli’s archives to our new site (launching March 5th, mark your calendars) and as I edited and catalogued the posts it became very apparent that I use to have more fun blogging. The “It made me laugh” thought process of writing has become “No one wants to read that drivel”.
Obviously I am super nice to myself. The whole point of Kristin’s Glas was to write with abandon, to write like no one’s reading. I think I’ve missed the point.
As I mulled over these deep and meaningful thoughts for a few days my mind brought me to the wisdom of the good Dr. Seuss. Which I think makes sense, if you need a diagnosis you need a doctor.
When I am confronted with a challenge, especially house keeping related ones, my first thought is
…this mess is so big and so deep and so tall, we can not pick it up, there is no way at all!
I tell myself that I can’t do it, even before I’ve started. If my life was The Cat in the Hat, I am the fish.
THE FISH. No one likes the fish all he says is NO, no, No, NOOOO and no.
I don’t want to be the fish. I want to be the cat. I want to lead the charge of mess and chaos and optimism and play. And have a fancy machine to tidy up after me, of course. I want to put that miserable fish in the damn pot and put the lid on.
How do you shut up your fish?