My sister came to visit over July 4 weekend. I drank every day. I don’t normally, so it kind of sucked in that I was tired all the time and felt sticky. Don’t judge; I’m sensitive.
So I decided to go dry for the rest of July. I made it from July 5 to July 10 before I caved and had a wine flight while out to lunch on Saturday. Oh well. I’ll keep trying. It was a weekend, at least.
This blog post is boring. I realized that despite most of my posts being about writer’s block, I did not have a post category for writer’s block. So I added one. This is the first post categorized as “writer’s block” even though it’s not about writer’s block.
Moving on… I’m working on a new story. Stay tuned. Or don’t; I’m not very interesting. I get that.
“But Beck,” you say. “What about the book you’ve been trying to write since 2010?”
It’s on the back burner. Or maybe even in the pantry, where things go to be forgotten. The pantry is the oubliette of kitchen storage. But it’s been going on too long; the story feels like a thrift store basement to me. I need to start something new. I’m sure I’ll come back to it once it comes back into style.
“Beck,” you say. “You’re a little incoherent today. Are you drunk right now?”
Actually, I’m not. I have not had any alcohol today. I can do incoherent all by myself.