Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n Roll

Well, not really. I lied.

See, I decided that this lack of desire to write lately is getting a bit tedious. I hate it. I feel compelled to write, but I'm in a funk in which, even though I have some good ideas on what to write about, I don't care enough to even write.

Does that make any sense? I have subjects, but just don't feel like writing. But if I write about something that happened when I was a kid, or whatever, I at least want to inject a little bit of life into it, you know?

So what I decided to do this morning is to just sit down and start typing words without any real point, without any specific destination; sort of a timed writing deal. You know, where I tell myself I'm going to sit here and type something, anything for, say, ten minutes, and regardless of how stupid or boring it is, post it.

I came up with the title that has absolutely nothing to do with anything I'm writing, but hey, it just might get my blog a few more hits. Now I'm probably the least comment hungry person you ever, or never, as the case may be, actually met, but it is a little gratifying to know that there are a handful of people with bad enough taste to actually check in here from time to time and read whatever swill I've served up for you on any given day.

Long gone are the days when I had many childhood stories or remembrances of things from my family's past to type out and try to capture some of the laughter or pain or whatever emotion the story would naturally convey.

But as I said, I do have some stories, but my attitude hasn't been such that I felt I could do the stories justice. I cannot bring myself to write something about my Father or Big Brother if I'm feeling pretty dead on the inside. I want to write their stories when I'm inspired. Literally. Inspired means "in spirit." The best writing, and therefore the best things to read are when the author has put down words that were inspired by his or her innermost being.

The best writings are always from the heart, or spirit. Pain is a detriment to this process. In my case, back pain.

So here I sit, putting down words with not one iota of spirit in them, but boy is that second hand on the clock moving!

See, at top speed, I type about 30 words per minute. I'm not one of those people, like Big Sis, who can disengage their minds from their fingers and let them fly. I cripple my own typing ability by having to think about each and every letter that I put down. That slows my typing to pitiful speeds. Big Sis is one of those people that makes a keyboard sound like a high rate machine gun she can type so fast. Not me.

OK. I see that that at this point I’ve been typing for almost twenty minutes, so I need to wind this down.

I wish I had a point with this post, but I don’t. Sorry. But if I do this each and every day, regardless of how lame the posts are, I hope that eventually the inspiration will come back.

How's about an abrupt subject change? Cool, let's do it.

I have had very few good night’s sleeps in the past three or so years, and last night was no exception. Makes it hard to think meaningful thoughts and to write meaningful posts.

Lovely Wife and I are supposed to have our new Select Comfort Sleep Number Bed delivered today, so it is my sincere wish to be able to, in the near future, sit here and write meaningful, inspired posts because I’ve started to sleep well.

It's amazing just how bad my mind works on little sleep.

I had better sleep better on that new bed! Darn thing cost as much as a used car.

Ding! This egg is done. See y'all tomorrow.