Up a creek

I've been home for a couple of weeks now. It's the longest stretch of time I've spent in any one place all year. At first it felt like the brakes had been slammed on and I screeched to a halt amid a cloud of dust and burned rubber. I've done a thorough evaluation and, though I may have been shaken, nothing broke.

I'm back at the folks' house in the country, the purpose being to write and record more songs for a record. I have plenty of time every day to devote to the task, and plenty of life experience to write about. Still, it's not coming easily. So, I decided that I'd take some time to restore a sense of balance in my life in the hopes that I could trick myself into being more productive. Here's my internal dialogue:

Interior. FRUSTRATED WHINY SELF is staring at the wall.

RESPONSIBLE SELF: You should be writing and recording!

FRUSTRATED WHINY SELF: I don't have anything to write about. I'm tired and frustrated.

RS: Oh, I understand. You're right. We should just go fishing instead. You know, to restore balance.

FWS: Good idea! I like you. We should hang out more often!

Cut to: Standing in the middle of a large creek putting bait on a hook.

RS: Ahhh...nothing like the oudoors, eh Whiny?

FWS: Yep. Nothing beats it. The only thing I like better is writing, recording, and performing tunes.

RS: Really? You've had all this free time and you haven't done any of those things. I thought maybe you'd lost the spark.

FWS: Lost the spark? Never! Matter of fact, I think we should get out of this water and go back home to write!

RS: (Smiles to himself) Okay, Whiny. Whatever you want.

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