Remember that scene in Heathers when Winona Ryder burns herself with the car lighter and Christian Slater lights his cigarette with palm of her burnt hand?
That’s how I feel every time I try to write a new blog post – an initial flash of self torture, immediately followed by utter apathy toward any words I put to page.
(I just spent more than 20 minutes on that second paragraph – and then deleted all but one sentence. I mean, wtf?!)
Seven years ago, I wrote a blog post every single day for 365 days straight. I couldn’t get through the month of April this year – and it’s one of the short months.
Maybe I’ve lost my voice. Or, maybe I need a new one.
Maybe I need to stop scrolling my endless Facebook and Twitter feeds – which, coincidentally, also makes me feel like I’m sitting in the backseat of that car with Christian and Wynona.
Last night, I met with a writer friend and told her before we saw each other again, I wanted to write, at least, one blog post. So, there’s that – I now have an item I can check off my to-do list – which, admittedly, pleases me almost as much as having an empty email inbox.
I’m not going to make any promises, and there’s a very good chance I may not show back up here again for another three months. For now, I will simply hope something inside me catches fire as soon as I hit publish.