xakara

Driven to Distraction,

That was the alternate title for today's entry. I only signed on to check a few things, hit MySpace and was no sooner sucked in. I started bouncing between the new blog entries my subscription alert so nicely informed me were out there and of course had to comment where I could.

That led to clicking on the pics of others who'd commented to check out their profiles, which alone can eat up an entire afternoon. Then I still had to come over here and start the distraction and time eating all over again.

Why am I allowing myself to be driven to distraction if I know the danger?

Excellent question.

Well, I was able to put off explaining a bit on the MySpace blog, but that was mostly by talking about here which I can't do. So I'll just get to it.

I'm depressed and don't want to write.

Moving on.

What? Oh, its nothing. Exhaustion, hormones, low blood sugar, complete and utter dissection of my entire life and everything in it. That sort of thing.

I haven't been reading enough. I'm beginning to forget what it was that made me want to write. The telling of stories. The inspiration from the voices of others. Wanting someone else to feel the way I felt when transported to another world for a while.

I think once I start reading again I'll lose whatever winter blahs, hypoglycemic, exhaustion and hormone induced despair I'm feeling right now.

Now, on the writing front. Despite not wanting to write I've picked out four new contest/open submission calls I want to try to meet the deadlines for. One is Feb. 21st, another April 2nd, and the last two in June.

Why take on new deadlines when I don't feel like writing? What can I say, I'm complicated that way. I feel what I feel but I know it'll pass and when it does why have to start from scratch? Keep moving forward even when you want to turn tail and run and you still get where you're going. I need to get where I'm going.

Besides, if I wasn't still looking for new projects I'd be sitting around and thinking about how depressed I feel. I mean really, how depressing is that?

So my four lovelies its off to throw down a sentence or three on all my projects (my standard requirement of a sentence a day even if I have to crawl to the computer to get it done) and then I shall contemplate running far away and into the arms of a book. I'm thinking something with big, strapping, shapeshifters to entertain me.

Wait, that's what I was writing. Well, whatever, off to see what I see.

It's all about drifting from this moment in time and moving toward the ones I know are stll to come.

Ramble done.

Til,