Writing Has Been Difficult Lately

Writing has been difficult lately. I can’t think of interesting topics or new things to bitch about and seem to have lost my sarcasm.  Also, my environment isn’t especially conducive to the process, with the Florida pollen bullshit that’s been causing a neverending nose-blowing/sneezing/sniffing/wheezing/itchy eye allergy situation on top of lingering homesickness for Pittsburgh.

I want to write, but I can’t find the right words. Sometimes, it feels like my creative juices have run dry. Gosh, I hope not. I don’t actually believe that, except sometimes I do. I’ve had little interest in making earrings lately either, although that could be because I’m burned out on making earrings after 15 years of making earrings.

I’ve been thinking of selling the rest of my inventory in the St. Augustine shops and retiring from jewelry-making forevuh. The process has been good for us. We’ve paid bills and vacationed (at Disney, of course) and even moved to Flordia using earring profits. But my fingers scream at me each morning, and I struggle to straighten them. When I wake, my hands always seem pissed off that I’m still making them work with teeny tiny beads, which is probably arthritis, and GAH! How did I get old enough to have that?

Anyway, maybe my hands just need a rest, and maybe my brain does too, or maybe I’m content with my life right now because, if you know anything about my creativity, it comes from a place of pissed-off, bitchy, frustrated annoyance. 

By the way, I nicked my leg with a new razor in the shower this morning, and it hurt so much that I almost wrote about it. Does anyone really want to read about my leg-shaving woes? Probably not, but I might write about it anyway because I lack a better topic. Har har har.