The Failed Creative

The quiet life suits me. I'll be honest - if not for the thought of the world in turmoil, I am soaking up these happy days. I've embarked on a project of reading every Newberry Medal winning book I can find, I'm gardening, I'm cooking from scratch. At the beginning -

-Um, excuse me?

-Sorry, I'm trying to write an upbeat and inspiring blog post, do you mind? What are you inturrupting me for?

-Just wondering why you are going to all the trouble of writing something nobody wants to read.

-Uh, ok, whatever. As I was saying, at the beginning, there were some bumpy patches; too many hours following the news, the shock and awe of each new enactment that curtailed our freedom, the sense of -

-You are literally wasting your time. Burning it. For nothing. Don't you have something important you need to go do?

-Like what?

-I don't know, wash dishes, maybe? Run a load of laundry. Read something. For pete's sake you are pathetic.

-I just thought that maybe I should do something, you know, that reaches out. Something a little more transcendent...

-That would be great. If you actually had something worthwhile to say.

-Maybe I do. Maybe my perspective will resonate with someone. Help them feel like they are not alone.

-Uh-huh. Nice line. Did you ever consider that people are spending far more time than they want to online anyways? Is it actually "helpful" to put yet another chunk of information in front of them, yet another thing to read before they can log off an actually get on with life?

-That's true, I guess.

-You know it's true. You know that ninety-percent of the stuff you read is in one eyeball, out the other. That means you could have done ninety-percent less of all that and gotten so much more done.

-Well, but - it was worth it for the good stuff I got to.

-Weak tea.

-No, really.

-Weak. Tea.

-

-Right. Now, go get dinner ready.

-I think I'm supposed to write.

-Supposed to. What is this "supposed to"?

-It's like a force I can't explain...

-Pah-leez! You're home. You're stuck there. So is everybody else. Nobody needs to hear about what it's like for you when literally 6 billion other people are having the exact same experience.

-But -

-Dinner!

-