I’m sitting in a Los Angeles coffee shop. It’s 5:26 pm. I was supposed to have written 1,000 words about the USFL by now.
I’ve written, oh, 200.
It’s not writer’s block. It’s writer’s delay. I’m just feeling meh and uninspired and a little disinterested. It happens when one spends day after day after day with the same subject, and that’s me today. Usually, to spark myself, I’ll order a big-ass coffee, or a soda, or something. But today … meh.
Just … meh.
So I Google. And write a blog post. And text. And stare at people. And think about Donald Trump and Barack Obama and cell phones and cancer and Newtown and Joe Montana. I use the bathroom and pick my toes and look at the clock on the wall.
Then I get back to writing.
Unsuccessfully.
