The Week of Writer's Block and Perpetual Fatigue

I kept waking up this week wondering if today was going to be the day that I could sit down and actually write something out rather than leaving days blank in my editorial calendar. But then I'd ignore my Blogger tab in the morning, during my breaks at work, when I got home in the evening, and all over again the next day. I took photos for posts on Sunday then decided soon after that they were garbage, but not the good, funny kind of garbage and figured posting sub par content wasn't any better than just not posting at all so I decided to not dip into my photo bank and just take some time to myself and wait for today's post. Except today's post isn't even what it originally was going to be about because, as per usual, I got a new idea on the subway when I was taking the train into Manhattan for work. 

Yesterday my alarm went off at its normal time, 5:15 am. We don't really need to get into the intricacies of why I wake up at five in the morning but don't do the things that most people do when they wake up that early like, you know, work out, take care of the kids, the usual. I digress, I probably went to sleep around 11 pm if I'm estimating correctly. Six hours of sleep isn't great, I'll admit, but it's usually all I need to feel like semi-humanish before I have my coffee and listen to the Jonas Brothers to hype myself up in the morning. 

When I say that I almost cried when my alarm went off yesterday, I'm not lying. It felt like I was jolted awake after I had only fallen asleep for an hour and it genuinely felt like I had just fallen asleep and didn't rest at all. It could have been my record-breaking earliest cry if I wasn't too exhausted to try to figure out how to formulate tears that early in the morning while my eyes are still a little crusty with makeup from the night before that my cleanser couldn't remove (note to self: stop using that cleanser, it's trash). 

I felt like I was wandering around Brooklyn and Manhattan with my eyes half closed, trying to make sense of who I was and what I was doing, but most of all, why the hell I was so exhausted. 

I tried to complain to my mom about it by describing it as feeling "like all of my life and energy was completely drained out of my body." But then I realized that that is probably how she's felt every single day since finding out she was pregnant with a Scorpio, so I figured I shouldn't even push that complaint on her.

I've written about writer's block before and I'm not the first person in the world to feel tired. Not saying I'm special or any out of the ordinary from any other human on this planet who had a long week and whose Thursday felt like a Monday. Not to be too early 2010s, but my life is pretty average. Sometimes weeks feel longer than others, sometimes the workload is heavy, and sometimes your period week aligns with busy days at work and you just feel like someone's come around and stolen all of your natural energy and caffeinated energy straight out of your body and you're just left with someone whose eyes are slightly closed and can't process things as quick as they usually can and might hit the delirious stage of tiredness at work to the point where everything and anything is funny and you cannot be controlled. This is a terrible state to be in when your explore page is filled with stupid ass memes, but hey, that's your own fault for looking up stupid ass memes when you're not delirious so often to the point where Instagram just wants to push them all on you with soothing slime videos scattered in between.

Where was I?

I didn't want to go a full week without posting something because I don't like not posting for a week unless I planned ahead of time that I wasn't going to post. I'm beyond the point of worrying about my "schedule" but sometimes I can't tell the difference between true writer's block and me just being plain lazy. I don't force myself to write, but I'm also a god damn hypocrite so sometimes I know when to call myself out for being lazy and push through it. Monday and Wednesday's posts would have truly been trash though, so I'm happy I saved y'all from that. This post is also kind of garbage but you gotta write some garbage to write some like, okay-ish stuff. Like recycling level stuff. But like, it's actually a pizza box with a little grease left in it that some people might not take as recycling, you know?

I don't write as much as I used to anymore, which may or may not have negatively affected my weekly posts on here. Then again, it's been a year since I've properly written so maybe it's just me being affected by the people and environment around me. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a little stuck and lost and kind of don't know what's going on most of the time so I'm just drifting along and writing confusing run-on sentences because this is all my mind can compute right now.

All I really know is that I'm a little bit sleepy, but I have two cups of coffee chilling on my desk until they're ready to be made into iced coffee. I know that today is Friday and I'm going to go home and finish the bottle of rosé I've been working on for the past week before it truly goes bad. I know that tomorrow I'm going to stay home all day and catch up on sleep and not feel bad for taking time to myself because the past two weeks have been a lot and I had to schedule time into my days this week to sit down and cry (I watched the series finale of Parenthood in case you were wondering what my poison was this week). I'm also probably, most likely going to listen to the new Lizzo album and feel good as hell about myself for absolutely no reason. 

So yeah, big middle finger to writer's block and feeling tired and also the rain that's supposed to plague New York City on and off for the foreseeable future.