Inevitably some things slide. Sadly, blogging is one of them, tragically writing is another.
It's a funny one, the writing thing. In times of emotional stress writing can be incredibly cathartic - if not in acute phase, then certainly as things start to process. Bereavement and break ups have both stimulated a great outpouring of creativity.
But general life stress? Nope. It's like a glutinous Victorian smog that chokes any spark of imagination and leaves you only the narrow focus of a to do list circled in red.
Well, I'm slowly edging past that period (I hope). Last week, for the first time in a month I actually wrote something. OK, less than 300 words of something, but it was a start. Better still it really was a start -a new start for Banshee and one I'm much happier with.
So, with the first glimmers of spring sunshine, hope stirs that I might not be completely brain dead after all.
I'm going to be pouring writerly WD40 on my mental gears (it's scary how quickly they get rusty) and opening up my notebook to start afresh.
After I've chased up that deposit....