Writing is the Blah.

Stupid stupid. STUPID writing.

Smash face into keyboard.

Repeat.

It's funny, I'm not really plot stuck. I know where I'm going. I even have specific scenes in my head. Ready to go. 

Instead my block is based on the internal voice (that pesky little hateful bugger I call Jiminy) that's just telling me I'm the worst writer on the planet, and I shouldn't write that. That's terrible! Who wants to read that crap? No one. That's who.

And then I respond in turn that I'm aware of that. But it doesn't matter because it's a first draft. All I need to do is get down the barest of minimums here. I can use the word 'said' 800 times if I want. Just get it down. The second draft is the easy one, the one where I actually get into the flow of things. I know that. 

But it's too hard today. All I need to do is vomit it out, and I know it'll be a thousand times easier. But I can't. It's a terrible idea! Everything will be rubbish! AUGH!

Some days, jerk Jiminy cricket is just the worst.

Of course, it's not really all that bad. Or dramatic. It's more, I sit down, I start to type. Stop. Delete. Type some more. Stop. Wash the dishes. Stare at the screen some more. Start to wonder when it got so hard to do everything. Decide to blog about it to delay impending doom of failure.

I figure writing is writing. If my fingers get used to typing, they'll just go about their business, no matter which screen I'm on. They won't even notice the blog has stopped, and I'm trying to do srs bzns work now. 

That's my hope anyway.

I dyed my hair blue! Well. Just the tips. But it's pretty awesome. So I've got that going for me. And it's different shades too, which I realize probably just means that we didn't do a good job bleaching in the first place, but I still think it looks nifty. And, it should still tuck away in a bun, so the boss people's don't give me a sharp look. Huzzah for blending!

Also. I think John Simm is super swell. I really do. But man. Writing him as the Master. And then going to watch him on 'Life on Mars' for some mild inspiration? Man. Don't DO IT. I had to watch him murder the crap out of Rassilon six times on youtube before I could erase the image of him hugging a television set and crying. While he begged the man on the screen not to leave him.

Jesus. 

Acting chops? Yes. Absolutely. 

Lacking that sexy blond hair and stubble, and a little bit of his psychotic murdering bad-ass self? Completely. 

I'm going to wait till I'm done with this fic before I try watching that show again. I just...I just can't.

  This is a hard no. 

This is a very hard yes.

Is that a pimp cane? Because he looks like a pimp. 

I did want to mention that these are things I randomly found on google. Not things that I made.