So....it turns out that for a number of reasons I have the intellectual wherewithal of a goldfish. I used to be clever, but over the past five years, I've grown increasingly less so. My writer's block has become more of a tackle followed by a vicious kick to my head.
And my spirituality? Please! Talk about aridity. Apparently I'm a latter-day Moses working on 40 years in the wilderness except without the burning bush, golden calf, commandments, charioteers, and shape-shifting serpent-sticks. Not that I want any of those things, but it might be nice to have some compelling matter about which to write. (Actually, I'm not much like Moses at all. More like... what? Like something different than Moses, but related in an intelligent little twist that will make my readers delighted. Nope. I got nothing.)
I need to start writing again. I'm tired of this dry spell. If anyone wanted to throw me a line, I'd appreciate it. My own ideas are dull. My own questions are stale. My brain atrophies and my ideas......Whatever. Forget it. This post stinks too.