stuck (not ) in the mud

When we were kids, we used to play this game called stuck in the mud which I'm sure almost every Sri Lankan kid living in Colombo has played at some point or the other. I don't know how on earth we managed to crawl in between each others legs while in uniform but we did. And we did it mighty fast too (to avoid being caught and stuck yourself) except for the occasional times when we would be stuck (not because we're caught but because the crawling plan goes wrong mid action leaving you with no other choice but to very painstakingly bend low as you possibly can and drag your knees ever so slowly, knowing very well that it would be simply a matter of time before you accidentally hit the stuckee or else got caught to the stucker and be humiliated, especially if the former occurred) and that's what's happened to me now. I'm stuck. Not in the middle of a stuck-in-the-mud game unfortunately (which I'm sure my now more sophisticated thought process and brains can conquer with no problems, even if my slightly larger frame couldn't) but stuck because I don't have anything to write about. A form of verbal constipation so to speak I guess one could call it. Or the inability to write decently.

I started typing three blog posts so far only to hit the new post button time after time because I feel so uninspired. I had specific plans to write today because I need writing samples for potential jobs (ones that actually pay rather than just teach me things) but after three hours of facebooking and attempting to blog instead of actually doing the said writing, I'm still stuck for inspiration. This is one of the reasons why I've never considered writing as a career too seriously because while I can occasionally produce a crappy piece of work not worth bothering to read if I try to write when I feel uninspired, mostly I just end up with blank pages.

So I'm sitting here on my bed with the fan spinning away at full speed, sweating profusely on almost every inch of my body, sounding like an elephant because I've been having a constant cold that refuses to go away despite the constant chewing of vitamin C that the mother insists will help (I'm mid way into my roll of toilet paper already and I sat here only a couple of hours ago), stuck with nothing to write. Absolutely nothing. Excuse the elephant, I mean me while I snort again... yes, as I was saying, nothing, absolutely nothing what so ever to write about.

So much for being productive. I might as well make use of the rest of the night and have a shower and snuggle in with a good book.