Thursday, December 6, 2007

Writers Block

What kind of a writer has a blog that they don’t write in? Most likely a writer that has writers block. It’s odd really, because the last time I wrote anything of sustenance was at a writers workshop on writers block. I didn’t have it at the time, or so I thought. I obviously thought wrong. But we are forgetting the one sure cure for writers block. A snowy day. Yes, you read that right, a snowy day. What more inspiration do you need than a cold winters day with big fat snow flakes plopping out of the sky as you sit in your den, with the fireplace blazing of course, as you tap-tap-tap away on your laptop, waiting for the next great American novel to appear on the computer screen. Add a ratty sweater or a tweed jacket into the mix and you have a great American classic, sure to delight the minions for eons to come.

As luck would have it, just such a day occurred yesterday. The big fat snowflakes flew furiously from the sky, joining the 3 inches of snow that had fallen in the night. I had my coffee ready, extra paper stacked in the printer, and a roaring fire going in the fireplace. Life was good. Then the phone rang. It was my eldest son. He had a shoulder operation the day before and thus was confined to the four walls (aka four wall syndrome). He needed me to drive downtown and pick up his paycheck. That whistling sound I heard was my perfect day flying out the window.

Being a good mother (abet a stupid one) I complied with his wishes and drove downtown, picking up his check and then depositing it in his bank account. What more could one want? I had to ask that didn’t I? Next he wanted me to drive around town paying his bills for him. And then there was general Tso’s chicken, which everyone knows is the only thing you can eat after a shoulder operation. By the time I finished running his errands in the late afternoon, I was so tired that the only thing I could write was my name on the credit card receipt for the pizza I ordered for dinner. But at least I wrote.