Blah and Humbug

[laguera25]

I fully intend to work on the next letter of the CSI:NY alphabet fic as soon as I finish this entry. Thusfar, however, I've devoted my oddly lacking morning energy to squeeing loudly over the Daily Puppy picture of the day and organizing my browser's bookmarks. I am, it should be noted, singularly unmotivated when it comes to fannish endeavors.

I don't know why. I've got letter C of the CSI:NY Alphabet two-thirds complete and know exactly how to get where I want to go. Similarly, I've got two Supernatural fics at fifty and sixty percent completion respectively, and I know where they need to go. I also know I'm much happier and more fulfilled when I write.

I just can't be assed to do it.

I'd rather watch TV or play video games than peck at my keyboard in the hopes of finishing a story before canon buggers it in the ass. It's less stressful. And yet, the thought of never writing another recreational word again inspires a deep horror. It's not the act of creating and imagining that I loathe, but the energy I must necessarily expend to accomplish my goal. I've been tapped out for weeks, cold and melancholy, drifting at loose ends and wondering how many people the present course of my life has bitterly disappointed. I was supposed to be somewhere else, I think, but I'm here, and I don't know how not to be.


I don't want such a bummer entry to be my only contribution to the Internet archives today, and so I might post the first section of my four-part spn_halloween fic to remind myself of that which I I am capable.