And the keys go clack

Blocked.

Stuck.

Static.

Nothing.

OK, that’s four very similar words, that’s a start. Let’s build on that.

There must be something I can write about.

Somewhere.

Come on brain, let’s do this.

There is something in there somewhere. You know how this works.

Starting writing.

The words will come.

Won’t they?

I read an article about the impact the pandemic has had on casual friendships, those acquaintances you only saw now and then back in the heady days of 2019, it’s definitely something I could write about. How I’ve got a core group of close friends but everyone else is more an acquaintance, and how those latter relationships have been reduced to a few likes and comments here and there on social media.

But that’s not unique. Everyone is feeling that.

What else then.

I read about Joe Biden’s morning routine, I could write about mine, get up, stretch, have breakfast, go upstairs and start work.

Yeah that’s not really that interesting is it…

I’m running again, making my way through the Couch to 5K program, and in a week or so it’ll be complete.

Yeah, so there’s that.

What an odd time we live in.

OK, I give up.

To be honest between our recent engagement, the arrival of Daisy, and just getting on with life day by day, that feels like enough right now and whilst I have the usual morass of nonsense banging about in my head, and about six or seven blog posts in draft, this is about all I can muster up.

And my ohh my what a first world problem this, bemoaning the fact that I’m struggling to write down some words whilst I sit here in front of my shiny laptop in a warm home with food in the cupboards. What a privileged bubble to occupy.

But that’s a whole other thing. Right?

Or maybe that’s the point, that’s the blockage right there, the cold realisation that nothing I write here matters. Nothing I post is of consequence to anyone except me.

Yet that should be freeing, that should open the flood gates, if nothing I post here is of note, if it holds no real value then post and be damned! Except it’s never worked that way, has it. This is part of me, a filtered and focused view into my life, the parts of it I want to share with you at least. So dear reader, here we are again, another trip down the introspective rabbit hole? No, not today.

I’ll stop here and revisit those drafts I think, see if they can be cajoled and buffed into something. Anything.

Anyway, enough about me, how are you? Comments are open, what are you struggling with?

Comments

  1. It’s okay to feel these things despite your privilege. Those are your feelings and they are not wrong.
    I am juggling with a couple of things. I have just deleted a list of the shitty things that I’m going through because this isn’t the forum for that.
    It’s okay to be simultaneously lucky and stuck in a rut.

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