The obligatory writer’s block post

You can start open battles in the streets of writing forums by claiming that writer’s block doesn’t exist. It’s not exactly that I’m going to do that…

Everyone who blogs about writing should discuss writer’s block sooner or later. Sometimes I blog about writing, so I’ve decided this includes me.

I’ve avoided writing about writer’s block until now because I haven’t known what to say, but today I sat down to write a blog post and drew a blank, so voila!

(Okay there was the post about solutions to fantasy writer’s block, but that doesn’t count.)

If you head to certain parts of the web, you’ll see writers arguing about whether writer’s block exists at all. The arguments tend to go something like this:

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How to fail at eating better

No matter how virtuous my intentions are where it comes to eating better, I always seem to end up at pizza.

Periodically I resolve to eat better. That means less pizza and more green leafy things. I also figure I should eat more than one meal a day. (These all sound like good things, right?)

It sounds so straightforward, but I have failed at eating better in numerous ways.

Method 1: The Healthy Supermarket Trip

I resolve to clean up my diet. No more pies for lunch, eating chips when I get home from work, or muffins when I can’t be bothered making lunch.

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Strange things that might happen at a conference

At a conference last week I met two people I should have already known and ran into two people I haven’t seen in over a decade.

I spent the last three days at a conference.

Conferences are weird.

Early in your career, they’re mostly places where you hover for too long over the coffee station. You try to locate the only person you know so you don’t have to stand alone or try to make awkward conversation with the one other person no one else wants to talk to.

It doesn’t take you long to figure out why no one wants to talk to this guy: he has nothing to say about anything.

Neither do you.

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I lost my rabbit

A rabbit named Nicholas Augustus moved into my driveway. I’ve tried to video him, but so far no luck.

This will be a short post, thanks to the migraine I have coming on. It also might not make sense, which probably has more to do with me than my migraine.

I had a rabbit.

His name is Nicholas Augustus (because what else do you name a rabbit?) and he appeared in my driveway a week ago.

You probably don’t know this, but my driveway is long. Like, 800m long. I know this because the pizza delivery guys measured it, but that’s another story.

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Since when is it weird to holiday at home?

I’m taking a holiday at home, but don’t you dare call it a staycation. If I didn’t want to spend time at home I wouldn’t live here.

I have one more week of work and then I’m taking four weeks of annual leave.

When I tell people they inevitably ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going home.”

“You’re not going away anywhere?”

“No.”

“Ah, you’re having a staycation.”

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