Blocked



I think my last post was a little bit of a downer. This one isn't, I'm afraid, going to be much better, but I'll try to veer away from the overly melodramatic or histrionic.





I've got a major case of academic writer's block, which is something I generally sneer at as an excuse for not doing work. So here I am, all blocked up, and instead of feeling mopey and sorry for myself I'm all snarly and sneering. Snarl snarl. I thought going and working at the library would help, but when I got down there this morning everything was locked up tight for spring break. Snarl. I came home, unsure what to do with myself. I briefly thought a good cry might loosen my brain a bit (it's been a while) but before I could get serious about thinking sad thoughts Rob called, and asked if I wanted to do brunch.





I found it more than a little amusing, after yesterday's post about ex-marriages and whatnot, so of course I agreed. We ate, I got some cds from his place and played with the kitties, we stopped by Publix and I got a few groceries; a completely lazy, wasted Saturday afternoon was had by all.





Now I'm back at the ranch, so to speak, and still nothing---still no words for what I need to write. Damn it. It's like my brain has just refused to go on.

###