About 3 beers in...
Tecate to be more specific. Yeah, I know Easter isn´t a traditional drinking day, what with it supposed to be honoring White Jesus Walkind Deading it up and all but, then again, folks get winter wasted on Christmas, which is supposed to be about Baby Jesus, so whatever. Excuse my blasphemous boozing and typing.
The point of me even bringing that up is to say that I´m drinking. Obviously. But it´s also to explain why this post is on this blog instead of one of my other blogs. (although, I really should mirror it on my Caged Therapy one too...) Let me rewind back a tad...
I´m apartment sitting and dogsitting for friends. Whenever I do this activity and it allows me freedom for a few days, I like to drink and write. Not drink to get bent/wasted/drunk, but to feel a tiny buzz. I feel it lubricates my writing tools. I´m like Hemingway in that way, or that´s the excuse I usually use. What REALLY happens is I end up killing the six pack over the course of two days, come up with ideas I jot down but don´t really finish anything.
I planned on this time being different.
I´ve been pissed at myself for not completing what I at least think are awesome story ideas. I say I´m a writer but I did way more writing when I was clueless as what to possibly label myself. I know what needs to be done. I even see myself wrapping up tales in my head; I just don´t do it.
So this time was going to be different.
I usually take most of my story ideas with me. This time I only took two with me and the book I would have to reference for one of them. I was gonna get it done.
That was Friday´s plan.
Cut to Sunday at 5 PM and I haven´t made any strides that are worth reporting about. I know pretty much 75% of how I want the main story I was supposed to bust out this weekend should go; I´ve just haven´t committed it to eternity. The ideas still exists only in my head and my fragmented chicken scratch. What happened?
I can blame this cute dog falling asleep in my lap but I won´t because that´s dumb. It´s harder to type but I´m still able to post with her in my lap right now so that´s a copout. I could blame being unfocused and tired and horny but only the last one is true. (SO TRUE) But, again, only excuses. Drinking beer maybe? Nope. Never stopped me before.
This is on me. My writing mojo is out of whack and has been for awhile. So I´m going back for what worked for me in the past- write a bit about the non-fiction of my current life and then move into my fantastical take on fiction when that gets me angry/sad/fired up enough. Hoping that works out. We´ll soon see in a few days won´t we.
BTW, there is no images on this post right now; I´m using someone else´s laptop and I´m not gonna monkey around with that stuff right now, especially since everything is en Espanol, even the keyboard to an extent. So, if you DO see images, it means I revisited this page at home, looked it over and said "Ehh. This is frakkin´true enough for me and the three folks who read this. It just needs a beer can or two to be perfect."