It’s another Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Actually the only reason my wrist is on my forehead is that I have not made my blog post yet. I must, I positively must make my blog post.
Unfortunately, I have a dreadful case of Writer’s Blank. I know I have done things I could write a blog post about. I’ve had a rather busy weekend so far. It’s not over yet, because I have Monday off, making a Preview of Coming Attractions perfectly eligible. But when I think I’ve done this, I’ve gone here, I’ve cooked that, I might do the other… I just can’t think of a thing to say about them.
This is not really a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post, because I DON’T KNOW why I can’t seem to write a post. And it’s all very well to say to myself, “Oh, just try.” THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING, DAMMIT! Pardon my French.
I’ve said it before and I will no doubt say it again: writing about not writing is still writing. The funny thing is, as soon as I say it, I stop writing. Do you suppose if I hadn’t started writing about not writing that I could have in fact kept writing?
Well, duh.
I’ll see what I can write about on Monday.
Mohawk Valley Girl 