Conversation with Myself

6:30am

Okay, I got this. It’s early in the morning and someone around the world is still asleep. It’s time to be productive! As if someone still sleeping has any effect on me. Whatever. I have my green tea perfectly steeped; the window is cracked half open for some of that worldly inspiration, and I am ready to go! Notebook and pen in hand. I’m doing this. Let me just quickly check my social media, then I’ll start writing at 7:00am; it makes things more rounded that way.

8:25am

Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess doing quizzes to know what type of lover I am and whether I can still jam out to Disney songs is critical to my livelihood. No worries, you still have the whole day ahead of you to get that literary juice flowing. Today’s the day I’m going to make some progress, don’t lie, you’ve been saying that to yourself for the past week. Silence my inner saboteur! Just focus. Write. It's not that I’ve forgotten how it just feels foreign now. Oh, hell yeah, that rhymed!

11:05am

I’ve been sitting for hours. I need to go for a walk and see other humans. Maybe I’ll go to the store and buy a new notebook. A fresh start calls for some new stationery. It’ll be a lucky notebook. Make my words come out flowing like honey and shit. It’s such a lovely day outside.

1:20pm

Fuuuuuuuck! Ughhh, how is it almost 1:30pm already? What did I do today? Okay girl, FOCUS! Fucking write that word down, stick it on your forehead, stick it on your brand-spanking-new notebook, stick it on any surface you can find. I start getting serious at 1:30pm!

1:30pm

You know what I need to do, look at some of my old notes to inspire me, you know, get that fire going. What’s this? Some random scribble from my Introduction to Jazz course 10 years ago. I can barely make out my handwriting; ‘My name is doom and gloom. Anyone or anything that comes in contact with me automatically loses its will to live’. Oh God. What. Is. This. Shit. This is what I have to work with?! If I don’t write something down soon, I might actually become doom AND gloom. Maybe if I keep talking to myself, something will be forced to purge onto my page. A continuous stream of consciousness. Yeah, that sounds cool. A conversation with myself. That’s an idea. Explore that. You must know yourself at your core so that your writing is authentic for your readers, right?

3:45pm

Why is this so difficult? I don’t get it. I’m so sweaty and it feels like a bulldozer is mashing up my insides. How the hell did I do this before? It can’t be writer's block; I haven’t written anything in years for it to be called writer's block. And I don’t think a premature mid-life crisis is on the table either. Okay, my last procrastination session will be a productive one! I’m only going to spend 30 minutes reading articles on how to get back into the groove of writing. I need some tips because this just isn’t working. I’ll start reading at 4:00pm.

6:12pm

Maybe writing isn’t for me. I peaked at 24 years old, how sad. I had everything figured out back then and thought my writing was bestseller worthy. What a delusion. Now I’m just dusting off the cobwebs in my head trying to find any glimmer of hope that this is still for me. My Mom always said I’d be a great doctor. The medical field did interest me when I was younger, maybe I should look into that. I take that back. Natural jewelry. I should open my own Etsy shop and sell jewelry made out of pinecones and seashells, and tree bark and other crap. It’s all the rage. I’m sure it’s a lucrative career option, and I mean c’mon, I basically just have to buy the jewelry chains and glue, nature provides the rest. People are so dumb. It’ll probably be slow to start, but let me just check other Etsy shops to see what the competition is like…

8:40pm

Last chance to get something done. I’m fucking drained from nothing. That’s so sad. The notebook clearly isn’t as magical as I thought it was going to be. Bust out the laptop. Let’s just fucking do this. Please. Just get some words down. Go sit at that desk, and stare at the wall until something smacks you upside the head. Get some song on repeat in the background, dim the lights, but also light about 10 candles so that there’s light in the room; either that or maybe I’m just really hoping to set the place on fire so I have an excuse as to why I’m struggling so hard. Is this how it's going to be every time I try to write now? I think I’m going to cry. Should I call my sister for some moral support? No, that’s just another distraction. My head is so heavy I just want to go to sleep and start fresh tomorrow, but I know that tomorrow never comes. That’s me in my comfort zone for weeks now, reassuring myself that things will be better and easier tomorrow. I’m such a fucking liar. I need to do this for myself. This is what I love to do. This is what makes me happy…whatever that word means. Just breathe, everything will be fine.

11:11pm

Look at the time! It’s 'make a wish' time! Whatever I write will hopefully come true. I’ve got the cosmos and all the celestial beings on my side for this minute. Make it count. Just close your eyes, breathe, and focus. What do you want to write about? What has been weighing you down that needs to be released to lighten the load? Reach deep down into your soul and yank out that concrete brick to finally be free. The minute passed by and the laptop read: Did I eat anything today?