Many people fear the blue screen of death. I don't; a hammer and/or practicing my shot put out an open window fixes that up quite permanently. So do computer gurus, down at the local shop that equates to 3D Greek-to-me.
I fear the white screen of doom. That would be a notepad, office document, or even big empty window in blogger before I start filling it with words, strung together in compound complex sentences, the occasional dangling participle, some unnecessary and potentially redundant adjectives and predicate nouns, and the infrequent ambiguous verb. In other words, my utter nonsense.
In the past I've referenced Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury, because it's filled with many inspirational tidbits that encourage writers to just get to work and push letters down into words and words into sentences, until they've written something -- anything -- every day.
To keep from being a complete hypocrite, I'm pushing letters around today. It's been tough for me to blog of late because I'm too numb to come up with anything to be jaded about. That numbness is a mix of emotional stress, exhaustion, and bad habit.
Surely being "just a mom" can't be to blame for it. I mean, that's only a 24/7 job with no salary, no benefits, and no severance package. Hell, some might even claim it's just a volunteer position anyway.
And it can't possibly be relationship issues at fault. I mean, if the guy's a jerk just one day, it's grounds to kick him to the curb, right sisters?! To think that I actually WANT to contribute to the relationship by cooking for him, or cleaning the kitchen without bitching that he should be in there doing his part or cleaning it FOR me as thanks for cooking for him in the first place.... well.. I'm setting the entire Women's Lib movement back 50 years!!
And my selfish commitment to myself, where I spend time of each day improving some hobby/craft/art/talent of mine, with the forward thinking goal of building a career for myself once my kid doesn't need (or want) me around 24/7... well that's just too cold-hearted for words.
My grandmother raised me to not talk about sex, politics, or religion... at the risk of offending someone. I'll try to include all three in my next blog.