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I’m suffering a complete crisis of confidence today. I’m wrestling with the type of writer’s block that doesn’t just make writing difficult, it makes you question the justification for your very existence. An hour and a half in and I was pretty much beating my head on the table because nothing I wrote was any good. (Bam!) In fact, nothing I have ever written has been any good. (Bam!) I have absolutely nothing interesting or important to say, and NEVER HAVE!! (Bam! BAM!)

I do not know how other folks deal with these feelings. I tried a tactic that has worked for me in the past; Chinese food and diet coke. Indulgent and, at the very least, I thought I could count on the MSG/artificial sweetener double whammy to calm me down, hopefully to the point of requiring a nap. But, nope. Sometimes the anxiety is just too much to overcome. At least the caffeine allowed me to focus….

…Focus on my stupid husband who’s clearly to blame for my current, emotional distress. God! If it weren’t for him and his constant, stupid encouragement I wouldn’t even be attempting to write a book! He’s all, “You’re so great, you need to do this.” and “I think you shouldn’t work too much, because it’s much more important that you have the time to write.” It is a fucking NIGHTMARE, I tell you what!

Also, he has this crazy idea that since I am unsuited for most work (Seriously, he’s right. I’ve been known to throw a temper tantrum just upon hearing the words “team building exercise.” It’s kind of limited my career options.) he believes that writing, at home, alone, in my pajamas is basically the only way I will cheerfully embrace the work week. An interesting hypothesis, but let me ask you; DO I SOUND IN ANY WAY CHEERFUL, AT THIS MOMENT?

You know what would make me cheerful? Giving up the whole idea and dancing around the house to Matt and Kim while eating the entire hunk of leftover chocolate cake from the kitchen. Sounds like heaven, in fact. What is the plan here, anyways? Write the stupid thing and put it out there, where only one of two outcomes is possible;

1) people read it which would be horrible, as everyone could see the utter folly of my writing, or;

2) nobody reads it. Also horrible.

Then, just as I worked myself up to a fever pitch and was ready to hit “delete” and make a break for freedom, I cracked open my fortune cookie and, no lie, this is today’s fortune;

“Your life will be prosperous if you use your creativity.”

Sigh.

Back to the salt mines….

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The Rise & Fall of a Momocracy

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