Have I written about writer’s block yet? I don’t think I have. I could procrastinate for another hour or so checking my archives to make sure, but I feel that would only exacerbate the problem. That is to say, it would be another way for me to avoid writing. I could spend as much time as I wanted preparing, getting distracted, feeling guilty about being unproductive, and being unproductive, but that wouldn’t get me much further than where I am now. And I’ve got stuff I need to do.

Intellectually, I know that the best way to combat writer’s block is by writing something (anything!), even if it’s crap. Well, that’s all well and good, but try getting your subconscious to listen to reason; it’s problematic at the best of times, and only seems to be all logical when it serves its own ends.

So here I am, writing about writer’s block. Don’t let the irony overwhelm you. Here’s a protip: writer’s block sucks. Try to avoid it.

I think that the proverbial honeymoon is over when it comes to this blog. It’s starting to feel like an obligation, posting every day. But I worry that if I stop posting, I won’t recover. My inadvertently missed day last week already shook my confidence, and it doesn’t help matters that I have a lot to do and not many spoons to do it.

This isn’t a cry for pity. Nor is it an attempt to get people to help me and tell me how awesome I am (I was there, and it was pretty sweet, but that’s not the point). It’s more of an attempt to get the juices flowing, and getting to a point where writing is just a habit and it feels weirder to skip it than it does to sit down and do it. So here I am, throwing words onto a page to see what sticks.

And don’t get me wrong, it is working. As I write, I it getting easier and my motivation growing. If I didn’t have other stuff to do, I might try and get several posts written. I think part of the problem is also tied to fatigue, as when I get tired I tend to lose interest in things. But I’m trying my best to soldier through, because I know that things do get better when I get off my butt and actually do something.

Metaphorically of course. Right now I’m writing this slouched on the couch in the basement. It doesn’t help the staying awake thing, but I seem to have just taken an impromptu micro-nap, and that seems to be helping.

So yeah. Writer’s block plus fatigue divided by the number of spoons left equals filler post. Whee.