I’ve got to confess I’m struggling with blogging lately. My inspiration is limp and floppy. I’m fed up in general, just a bit frustrated and unmotivated.
I haven’t got a post for today. I’ve got three or four drafts that are just a title but it’s Thursday night, 6.30pm. Himself is about to take large boy to Scouts. Small boy is about to watch old Top Gear (he’s working his way backwards and is on season 10 from 2006, Jeremy and co are hilariously getting younger and younger) before bed. So I have a choice, spend the next hour thinking of something to write, researching it and then writing. Or sit on the sofa having a cuddle and a gin and turning off my brain.
It’s an easy choice.
I’m hating the feeling of obligation towards this blog. I feel a duty to write and produce and that was never what it was about. I don’t want to stop, I just don’t know how to continue.
I think I know what the problem is.
I’m not running enough and running is my thinking time. I usually come back from a long run with at least 2 ideas. But I’m not doing more than 10km, and when I do my Fridays are chock full of other things so I don’t have a chance to get thoughts out into words.
So sorry for lack of anything interesting today. I’d love to have a chat in the comments about dealing with this sort of doldrums feeling. The sense of drifting without purpose. Bit like this duck. Only less cheerful and less pink.