Exhausted
According to the very cool clock my sister sent me, today is December 10, 2003. According to my very empty head, I am already out of inspiration.

Each year I sign up for Holidailies in the hopes of building up that muscle that is my brain. Writing everyday just isn�t something I normally do because when I write, I want to sit down and produce something that will keep your attention, dear reader. I want to entice, enthrall, educate, instigate and motivate. Writing for the sake of filling a space doesn�t interest me. But that�s also not the spirit of Holidailies, lest you think it�s all about the word count. It�s about the hopes that forcing yourself to come up with interesting and engaging topics for 31 days will create some new and improved neural pathways, causing you to see the world in a new light that includes spinning entries out of what would have seemed like nothing a month before. It�s like mental Pilates. It�s about creating a new, excellent habit.

Now I�m trying to figure out whether writing an entry about not having anything to write about is cheating. I�m going to make an executive decision and say �no�.

It was suggested to me by Rising that I take the heat off by having someone write a guest entry. The mere thought of that caused tingling in some of my warm places. Alas, when I ordered her to be the one to step up, she went blank. Maybe it has something to do with that huge rock on the third finger of her left hand. It might take a while for her equilibrium to return. Meanwhile, we�re all just enjoying her gleeful contributions to chat.

Claire looked at me askance through her monitor (I�m sure) when she read that I�d lost my writing mojo. She came up with all number of interesting prompts, some of which I�ve filed away and will use at a later date when I�m weeping over my untouched keyboard. She�s always thinking, that girl.

As for today, we shall have to be content with my random musings, I fear.

Posted at 10:40 a.m.