You know exactly what you want to write about but you can’t seem to form words into lucid sentences.
English suddenly feels like your second (or third) language.
You’ve been staring at the screen for an hour and only have one semi-decent paragraph written.
Your attempts at a title are beyond pitiful. Some might call them tragic.
You google “words that start with…” in an attempt to jump start a series name. It doesn’t work.
You google “good blog series names” instead. That doesn’t help either.
You spend more time cataloging your aches and pains than forming coherent thoughts.
You refuse to move until you get at least the bare bones of a post. This results in several limbs going numb.
A search reveals that Amazon sells stress balls. By the dozen. You seriously consider ordering 3 sets.
You order the stress balls then spend 30 minutes trolling for good deals on laundry detergent, socks, and books.
You realize how pitiful your life is when you’re trolling for laundry detergent, socks, and books on a Friday night.
Creative attempts are thwarted by memories of what you used to do on Friday night, before you got old and tired and attached to wearing your slippers.
You take a stab at free form brainstorming. It looks like this: shopping experience, woman in aisle, sad, strong, amazing, meaningful moments, the little/big things, kids. You decide it’s crap and delete the whole thing in one fell swoop.
You realize how insane it is to give writers the ability to highlight and delete entire paragraphs in five seconds or less.
Gosh, the dogs are adorable when they’re asleep.
You’re counting the number of children’s belongings scattered around the room and wondering if it’s time to seriously clean.
You know you’re avoiding the post because who are you kidding, you don’t seriously clean by choice. Ever.
The clock hits midnight, and you have to cook Christmas meal sides bright and early tomorrow. The post will live to fight another day. Goodnight, draft #14.