Lost Muse - Reward.

Not really, I don't have anything to give anyone even if they could find the missing muse.  Actually, I hate that term.  I've always looked at it like an excuse for not doing what your head is trying to make you do.  I don't need a muse to write.  There's no one thing I've focused on to that level of importance.  No, writing is just me.  When I write I'm the one who feels a sense of accomplishment and when I don't?  I'm the one who feels like I've let myself down.  I can't blame that on anything or anyone else.

The past few nights, I haven't been sleeping all that well.  I KNOW right?  Me?  Not sleeping well?  Go figure.  I don't know what's up, if it's allergies, or the fact that my shoulders ache no matter what position I try to sleep in, or that my knees get stiff within ten minutes and want to be moved around.  At any rate, I find myself lying in bed, nice and warm in the toasty orgasm sheets (no you perv, it really IS the sheets!) refusing to get up and go write.  My novel has been sitting untouched since well.....before Christmas.  I'll be honest, the whole Webook thing was a downer, it started off so well, and I was literally shocked that it didn't go on to the next round.  Maybe it's just that?

Maybe I'm questioning my ability to write?

I don't know, but I need to get back to it.  When I used to write poetry ALL the time, I found that I could only go so long without writing.  It's like an addiction.  You think you're fine, and one day you walk into that bar and the smell of whiskey makes your mouth water, only in this instance it's writing.  Days, weeks sometimes even months can pass and I'm fine, then I get nervous.  Testy.  Snippy.  All the characters who live inside my head start screaming all at once until I'm disoriented and confused and downright unhappy.

It's getting to that point now.  Maybe it's because I haven't really been writing anything.  My blog posts have dribbled away over the last month due to everything that's been going on in my life and because of how incredibly freaking tired I've been.

Wow, I just realized I have NO idea why I'm posting this.  Maybe I just needed to let it out, to come to terms with the fact that I'm failing as a writer at the moment.  Maybe it's that kick in the ass that I need to write it down so other people will realize I'm failing as a writer?  Who knows.  It's coming soon, that NEED to sit down and write, and honestly I'm dreading it in a way because I've got this nagging suspicion that I'm going to be starting all over.  I can't wrap my mind around what I've got so far and what I need to do to make it better, and I hate revising.  Anything.  I'd rather start most anything from scratch than try to go back and FIX it.

You know what though?

I.  Am.  A.  Writer.

I'm going to write today.  After I finish cleaning the kitchen and doing laundry.  Maybe.