Procrastination and a blinking cursor

by Notebook

Writing has become a little difficult again. I spend an extraordinary amount of time look at a blinking cursor. I have no problem thinking about what to write, but the interface between my brain and hands seems to be a bit broken so what comes out seems – lacking. Even toyed with the idea of getting a speech recognition program up and running to see if that would help but I'm suffering from a severe bout of procrastination-itis right now.

Momentum is key. It's just something I don't have right now. I can see the tasks, options and roads available in front of me. But it's like I've taken a good hard look at all of them, sat down in the middle of the road, looked at them all again, lit a cigarette and laid down on my back to contemplate clouds.

Normally this begins to irritate me after a while. But it really hasn't been lately. Normally the irritation barrels down on me like a bloody big truck which forces me to take a road. But (to wring every drop out of this analogy) lately I've just shifted to the side a bit, let it pass before taking up position again, lighting another cigarette and laying back thinking 'Right where was I?'

Intellectually I know that's not a great place to be because experience has taught me if you don't choose a road, it can be chosen for you. And it's not necessarily the one you want…

Fuck it, I'm bored of analogies now.

The past month we've been tied up with 'commitments' as in visiting people, going away to visit people, attending things for people. Totally routine breaking and free time absorbing. As MBH said the other day “How come we always seem to be there or doing things for people, but nobody ever seems to be or do for us?”

A month of getting back into a routine, and less of the expense of travelling would be welcome.

Moving into the new house at the end of October will help as well, hopefully. Everything feels paused right now for that. A lot of things already packed up and more to go. I don't really do the Steve Jobs ethos of happily sitting on a bare floor with only a lamp for company. I like my things. I've never actually seen the new place. After the love of my life complained so much when we were looking to move into this one my approach has been 'If you're happy with it, then I'm happy'. Supposedly I'm going to have a much bigger home office which will be nice. It'll also be nice to have a garden for the first time in a loooooong time.

Unless I decided to lie down on the grass and contemplate the clouds.