There are just some days when the well is dry and you are struggling to get even the tiniest sentence out.
This was bound to happen: I spent the last two months downright Juggernauting through my last manuscript. I barely gave myself 12 hours to rest before I was back in the saddle, querying out for M#1 and editing for M#2, pitching to various magazine websites (remember: "e-zine" died with Web 1.0), and writing and talking out every damn opinion I have, from the #YesAllWomen movement to the sudden string of failed drug tests in the MMA world (which I have not posted on this blog, but can be found in opinionated comments throughout the internets -- but, cliffnotes: bravo, high time we clean up the sport) to yet another school shooting (and, at this point, I'm just too exhausting to even comment on anymore). At a certain point, your well is going to run dry.
So this was my morning today:
"I could write about John Oliver's segment on Syria, and how it's dictator is the reincarnation of Macbeth/King Tut. Nah, too esoteric, and I don't have the energy to make the proper comparisons."
"What a lovely day. Let's right about the few spring days we actually get. Wow, how clichéd and pedantic."
"I could write about the various prospects I have going on! Yeah, great idea -- jinx the precarious thing that may or may not happen. Man makes plans and God laughs. So shut up."
So, obviously, this post is just me rambling about how I've tapped out the writing resources. I'm sure something will inspire me tomorrow. Something will happen that will make me go, "Fucking a, I need to write about this."
But, until then, here's this obvious time-waster of a post.