Trimming the bush
They say that writers’ block can be beaten by just typing anything.
Bollox.
I am writing, or rather I am typing [for the more pedantic reader] and sweet fuck all is coming out.
I think I’ll go and do a spot of gardening instead.
There’s a bush outside the door here that badly needs cutting back. I was told to cut it back when it stops flowering but the fucking thing flowers all year round,so I suppose now is as good a time as any.
And seeing as I have the hedge cutters out, I might even trim the old beard.
At least that isn’t flowering at the moment.
Talk amongst yourselves.
“There’s a bush outside the door here that badly needs cutting back”
Somehow it wasn’t that kind of foliage which came to mind when I saw your post title…
I believe that’s what they call “gotcha”?!
I used to love a drop or two of Irish whisky. Unfortunately, going into an English pub and saying to the barmaid “Excuse me, Miss; have you got a Black Bush?” led to a few misunderstandings…
Heh! I’d say she was used to it. It’s like going into a pet shop and asking if he has pig’s ears.
Oh how I wish that writers block could be beaten by just typing anything.
In my previous life as a Performance Manager I had to produce daily reports to satisfy those who got paid much more than me for doing much less work, that we were ‘performing’ within acceptable limits; if we weren’t then I would eventually have been dispatched! The reports had to be available at 8am every morning so there was little time to produce them as the previous days performance stats ended at 7am.
Printing out the stats was easy; interpreting them, bullshitting about why we had fucked up and what we would do better in future was not easy; many is the time when, 30 mins before the performance meeting, I was sat staring at the screen wondering what on earth to write.
Maybe that’s not writer’s block though, maybe it’s just that I was fucked, whatever I did!
You are thus qualified to become Governor of the Bank of England.
Every month the occupant of that post has to write a report to the Chancellor explaining why the inflation target was missed by a given margin. His monthly challenge, and his bullshitting solution to it, is exactly as you described your daily one.
The key difference is that he gets paid vastly more for one day’s output than you did for a whole month of it: the key similarity is that you’re both fucked, whatever you do.