Here's a little story:
Once upon a time (about an hour ago) there was a fair maiden (okay a regular looking woman) who was faced with a fire breathing dragon ... alright - it was a blank piece of paper and she ... I ... couldn't ... oh. Crap.
Story's over ... here's real life.
I'm sitting at my computer and I have this phenomenal episode of Supernatural about which I am working to compose a new blog for TVGuide. I'm a few pages into writing and suddenly it's as though every word in my head has left. I write a sentence and then recognize it for the ickiness that inhabits it. (Yes. Ickiness IS a word ... I. Just. Used. IT!) I erase the sentence. I recognize the thought that I am trying to transfer to written word and I find that regardless of the number of words listed in my little desk side dictionary (or the honking big online dictionary which is supplemented by the ever entertaining and blush inducing urban dictionary), none of them will string together to take the thought that is in my head and put it to paper.
I'd rather face a fire breathing dragon than a blank piece of paper. A blank piece of paper is, at times, harder to conquer than a yellow eyed demon.
So, I fall back in my chair and I simply start to doodle on my notebook and I look at the spot where I always lay my earrings when I take them off.
Two things here ...
1. Yes. I do have an earring tree and a place in my dressing area (ie. bathroom) where I keep my ever overflowing stash of those little metal delights. Once a week I clean up my desk and actually take them there. But most of the time they can be found under the corner of my computer monitor, right in front of the speaker where my little stuffed puppy one of my girlies gave me to keep me company resides, watching me with eyes that even now are telling me I'm stalling trying to write my Supernatural blog ... and ...
2. My earrings are my jewelry vice. I love them. I seem to collect them. I have hoops and studs and dangles. And the pair that I wore today are my favorite - a twisted hoop of silver that match the smaller set residing in my second set of lobe piercings.
Anyway ... I look to this spot as I am trying to wrap my mind around how to convey this thought and I realize there is only one of my earrings laying there ... in the spot where there should be two.
I look under my computer, under my keyboard, around my desk, through my papers. Nothing. I ask my little puppy but he's still looking at me with THOSE eyes. I get on the floor and check under my desk, I check the trash can beside my desk, I look in the basket that holds all my post-its and hairclips, pencils and pens, scissors and hole punch, book marks and safety pins and I've got nothing.
And the puppy is still not talking.
I go to the bathroom and check the earring tree, the countertop, the little jewelry dish, the bigger jewelry basket, I check the floor, I check the trashcan.
I go to the bedroom and check the dresser, the top of the tv, the table beside my bed, the pockets of my pants I wore earlier.
I go to the kitchen and check the countertop, beside the sink, the refrigerator (yes ... well, when you find your pair of glasses in there one morning and I'm not talking about the kind you drink from - you realize anything is possible) .
And still the puppy's not talking.
Frustrated in writing and frustrated in loosing one of my favorite earrings ... I decide to go ahead and call it quits for the night. I find my comfy jammies and I head to the kitchen to make a cup of tea - something soothing such as camomile with lemon. But before I go, I head to the bathroom and pull my hair up in a pony.
Want me to tell you what I see dangling from one of my ears?
Yeah. I'm back in front of the computer. There are now FOUR twisted silver hoops (two big/two small) lying under the corner of computer monitor and a fresh mug of steaming orange spice black tea. The words are back.
Stupid puppy's sitting there ... grinning at me.