377 days - Blog #79 a tirade against the mockery of the cursed cursor

Hello blinking cursor.  Thank you for mocking me.  Honestly, I think I would rather turn you off tonight and go into the other room where I can find another Netflix/BBC co-production in which I can distract/lose myself.  

I’m not much interested in creating my own work tonight.  Or confronting the deadlines that I have pushed away from very good and responsible head start to last minute.  But there you are, blinking cursor, flashing in the same annoying almost iambic rhythm as a ticking clock.  Harbinger of doom.  Inspiration of hyperbole.

I really don’t want to write tonight.

Sorry, dear Reader.  I don’t want to bore you with the tedium of this mental and emotional block.  Sometimes the creativity just oozes from my fingertips.  Or sometimes it is just the obtuseness of an opinion I decide to hash out in a few rambling paragraphs. Tonight I lack both.

We could call it rejuvenation.  A necessary mental recharge (although it would have been more convenient tomorrow when I get my next Homeland DVD – or we can argue how season three’s shark jump has drained the whole creative thought process thing).  I just don’t feel the fiction thing.  Or even the blog thing right now.

And yet, I’ve still managed to type up five non-paragraphs.  All in honor of your tedious and furious apathy, you damned cursed iambic cursor.