I’m simply too tired to write. I’m too exhausted to think of any new ideas; to paint any new pictures that would be worth noting or exciting to read. Sure I've got pleasant ideas boiling, and that kettle is about to sing but tonight is not the night. Tonight is for trying to keep my eyes open and lips moving to make conversation, and to seem like an interesting individual.
I've spent the better part of the last week with my feet glued to the floor of a job I don’t like. I guess I stick around because I care too damn much about my co workers to turn tail and run. I care too much about the well being of the owner of the company to back down. I've come in on my days off. I’ve given up glorious plans of social revelry. I've told myself it’s in the name of helping out another. I wonder if this is a lie and I've only done these things in pursuit of that almighty dollar. The dollar. You know, at the end of the two weeks it isn't that mighty. It’s pretty weak. God knows I hope this isn't true.
On top of that my sister has come to town. It’ll be good to spend the holiday with some family. I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like, but that’s only because that dollar won’t stretch no matter how I pull. I could write about how much it means to me to have family here, and how it brings forward all the thoughts of my past and who I have been. I could write it. But I won’t; not tonight. It would be forced and really not from the heart, though the sentiment is true enough.
I read recently that the difference between a hack and a professional writer is that a professional writes regardless, and a hack writes only when inspired. I guess that makes me the latter, and tonight I’ll take it knowing that it won’t always be this way. Tomorrow I hope to be thankful to even have the desire and ability to sometimes writes something worthwhile. I wonder if there is any beer in the fridge...
Posts
