you are viewing archives from 2004

five hundred words about nothing

I’m sitting here, staring at the blank screen. The flashing cursor.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

I know that I’m not particularly imaginative, but am I so boring that I cannot find one moment of the week to convey? Not one anecdote, not one story, not one instance of aha, that’s it!

Apparently not.

My desk is normally covered in bits and pieces of random writing, entrails oozing out over the surface of my workspace so all I have to do is simply reach into the vast lagoon of scribbles to retrieve a thought that I can expand. One small wisp of experience that I can tease into a thread, pulling bit by bit, weaving it into a finished tapestry, or at the very least, a tattered quilt of an article.

But my desk has failed me. This week, I wasn’t scribbling down thoughts to scatter on my desk like breadcrumbs to lead me back home. I was mulling, as I always mull: about characters, about stories, about plots and points and dialogue, stewing until the meal is ready to be vomited back up through the keyboard and onto the screen. I wasn’t really living my life. I can’t recall many of the events of the past week, to be honest. I’m sure I returned some email, I received some phone calls, I shouldered another disappointment, I basked in the love of my happy little family.

It wasn’t the Week That Wasn’t, it wasn’t boring or uneventful, it was unmemorable. It was just one of those weeks that, now that I look back, terrify me, as I don’t want to live a life lacking memory. I don’t want it to fly by, unnoticed, waking up one day fifty years from now and think what the hell happened? I want a life marked by: love, happiness, sadness, heartbreak. But I don’t want it all at the same time.

I’ve come to the conclusion that So Much Has Happened over the past four weeks that I’ve had a bit of Life Overload. In weightlifting, one gets stronger by adding more weight to the bar, bit by bit. Life is the same way, adapting to new circumstance, new stress, bit by bit. But in weightlifting, if you add too much weight to the bar too quickly, you’ll most likely injure yourself and burn out. However, the difference with Life is that we can’t always control how much weight is being added to our Psychic Barbell.

I know I’m burnt out, I know I need a break. I know my brain needs an ice pack and a massage and some time on the bench. I don’t think I’m ready to retire, I’m far from it. I just need some time on the Injured Reserve List to recover from my injury. And like a true athlete, I’ll jump back in far too soon, because while I’m somewhat numb and hurty and tired, this is what I love doing.

And I’ve managed to stick it out another week.