• 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.