Or at least that is what it feels like. I have been noticeably absent from my “writing” laptop for the last couple of weeks. The oddly shaped mold of my butt in my writing chair is slowly disappearing, the thin layer of dust on my desk is gradually turning into a thick layer, and I’m pretty sure I have heard my laptop weeping in the night due to my neglect.
I wish I could tell you the reason for this but I really don’t know. I could tell you that it is because my lovely wife is learning that morning sickness has been horribly mis-labeled and is actually ALL DAY sickness. I could tell you it is because my work place has gone crazy and is requiring soul-destroying amounts of overtime. Or I could tell you that due to the wonderful weather in the mid-west I have been spending time “maintaining” my yard. To be honest I think it is a little bit of all of that, but for the most part I just haven’t chose to sit my butt in that seat and get to writing.
I have missed staring at the screen intently as my fingers jump frantically over the keyboard and all the while my mind is in a far distant land of my own creation. I would like to think that all writers have times like this where you just have to step away for a second, or a couple of days, that turns into a week (or two). So much like a moth to a flame, or more accurately a fat guy to a bowl of ice cream, I know I will return to writing shortly and hopefully will have a burst of creativity that will help me make up for lost time.