I’m pretty sure that becoming a freelance writer was the most ridiculous idea I have ever had. This is a basic precis of the daily contents of my brain:
Work. Yes. Desk is clear, brain is sharp, let’s work.
*shuffles papers for ten minutes, checks Twitter*
Oh I love this project, it’s such a good subject!
Hang on, it’s not as fun as I thought. It needs research. Maybe I’ll have a coffee first.
*two large pots of coffee later*
Why is my pen shaking?
Oh bollocks, there’s that other article that needs finishing first. Shit, is it due in today? It is. Shiiiiit.
I should probably have another coffee first though, to sharpen my brain.
AARGH I HAVE AN HOUR TO FINISH THIS I CANNOT DO IT WHY DO I EVEN DO THIS JOB ANYWAY AARRGH
I know, I’ll write a blog post instead. Everyone knows blogs should be updated on a regular basis.
There is nothing in my head. It is a bleak desert of grey nothingness. Who wants to read a blog post about nothing?
But if I write a post about nothing it at least means I’ve written something today. And then maybe I will feel better and be able to get the other work done.
And that, my friend, is why you have just wasted several minutes of your life reading nothing.