Last week was a terrible week to write in. I had something that I was needing to write that wasn’t creative, nor was it terribly enjoyable. Sadly, that spread to make the rest of my writing feel quite unappealing. As it’s finished, though, my will to write has been coming back bit by bit. I’m writing tonight, and I’m glad to finally be back on that. It feels good to be writing something that feels, if not creative, at least something that comes more from within my own head than from the world around me.
This doesn’t mean that I think that the world around me isn’t worth writing about. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be writing this blog post right now. But writing something that’s not really that creative, that limits me on the amount of space as much as I was limited (about a page each) and not something I could really do anything creative with, it took everything in me to be able to pull it off. If I’m writing about something in the real world, it has to be something where if I am bringing facts into the fray, I can also at least comment on them, if not spin off of them add infinitum. That really makes me feel like I’m invested in it. Also, this doesn’t mean I can’t write something for work situations. I can do that, but when I’m doing that, I need to be in the work situation in a work brain to do that effectively. It happens every day, though I don’t get to write much at work, currently.
Still, it’s nice to be back into writing what I’m wanting to again. It gives me that warm, fuzzy feeling of being home all over again.
Of course, all this could just be because of me getting up early and dealing with the time change, too. That damn time change screws with everything, doesn’t it?