I get writer’s block when everything in my life is going well.
I guess that means it’s a good thing I never run out of mistakes to make.
Everything did seem to be going well though.
Famous last words. I’ll bet they’ll engrave that on my tombstone; “Death by Complacency.” The worst kind of death, may her soul rest in peace. She died young.
It was the holidays and I thought I deserved a break. I’d been writing consistently and living and learning pretty well. It was the holidays, after all. Doesn’t everyone deserve a break for the holidays? You know, kick back, eat gingerbread, and watch Miracle on 34th Street?
Well theoretically, yes Veena, you deserved the break. But let’s just walk through what happened here for a minute. Take us through the events leading to your untimely demise.
Okay. So here I am, eating gingerbread and watching Christmas movies. We actually tried watching “Gremlins” this year instead. Terrible movie; stick with “Miracle on 34th St.”
And then I’m thinking, “I deserve a break.” So I give myself just that. A break. I stop writing. We keep watching movies. I stop writing, I stop thinking so clearly. We play board games. I stop noticing. We watch more movies and I get more uptight.
“No, no. Zoe’s not hungry, she’s just bored. Why don’t you play with some of her new toys?”
That was when I tried to leave Zoe with my mom for a grand total of fifteen minutes so I could go to the gym downstairs.
Okay, so ‘uptight’ may have been a euphemism for ‘controlling bitch.’
We eat holiday popcorn and play more board games. I become a bigger controlling bitch.
“Oliver? Could you do that later? Could you just help me with this? You haven’t been spending time with me lately.”
Okay, so maybe add ‘whiny’ to that colorful list of adjectives we’re compiling.
Christmas passes, but it’s still the holiday season because New Years is yet to come. So I keep giving myself that break I so deserved and I keep not writing.
I get grumpy.
We bring in the new year by building a blanket fort in our apartment living room and then watching more movies, this time from the fort. Seemed fitting. Two thousand ‘fort’teen. You get it.
You want to know what happened? So the holiday season passes and my pants seem to be one size tighter from all the gingerbread (couldn’t seem to make it to the gym much, for some reason…) and this well-deserved break is over but I don’t really feel like I just got a break at all. In fact I feel like I want to rip my hair out with frustration and I’m harboring a growing concern that I may have forgotten how to speak English and/or have conversations like a sane person.
That was when I fell over dead from grumpiness. Ah, the stench of complacency.
Damn shame, she died so young. You know I hear she used to have at least half a brain, too?
With breaks like this, who needs work.