I don’t feel like writing today.
I’m in a foul mood. I’m exhausted and it’s not yet noon. What I’m doing is immaterial; I could do nothing and still be worn out, which is why I keep doing something rather than nothing.
My DNA is noncompliant with doing nothing, especially when there’s so much something to be done.
Writing is work. Good writing is hard work. Empathic writing that reaches up off the page and touches fingers and feelings with the reader wrings one out. I’m always going for the latter.
Inspiration? Try perspiration. By the time unfinished and/or necessary tasks are done and I’ve cleaned up, all I’m inspired to do is relax and read.
And eat. Some more. After I wake up. Again.
They say a professional writer is an amateur who wouldn’t give up. It fits because I won’t. I just don’t feel like writing today. I have little in the tank to invest in you, so I’m not. I’m letting you know how I feel, and that I’m willing to treat you like enough of a friend to say so.
You’ve noticed that I’m writing anyway while being authentic with you. This is called free writing. Even when I feel like I could do the limbo beneath a whale lying on the seabed without knocking off my hat, I refuse to quit.
That’s my investment for today in myself. Besides, our stroll together for today is done. Thanks for your company. You’ve brightened my day and lightened my load by listening.
© D. Dean Boone, August 2016