The one that got away
Once upon a time, there was a brilliant and witty blog post idea. It was the most amazing post the blogger had ever thought of. Although few people would read it, the blogger was proud of herself for thinking such a thing and was happy to share her genius thoughts with others.
So sure of herself was the blogger that she didn't write her superb post right away. The blogger got busy. She put off writing her post one day, two days. Her blog waited, silent.
When the blogger finally sat down to write her post, she couldn't remember what was so brilliant and witty and amazing and genius and superb. Not a single brain cell would cooperate. Was it something her child had said? Was it an epiphany from the great beyond? Was it something particular to her hometown?
All was lost.
The blogger stared at the computer screen with her fingernails digging into her temples.
"Why? WHY?" she cried out.
She wiped away a tear and turned her face away from her empty blog post, ashamed and humiliated. How could she even dare to call herself a writer?
Where was her muse? Her fairy blogmother? Alas, they did not exist. Not this day, not for her.
And so the blogger retreated from the blogosphere in defeat, her only hope that a new day would come to provide fresh material for her blog -- something to write about -- a changed perspective and a new view about life, perhaps, that would redeem her blog another time.
That night, the blogger dreamed of joyful typing and commenting and twittering, happily ever after.
So sure of herself was the blogger that she didn't write her superb post right away. The blogger got busy. She put off writing her post one day, two days. Her blog waited, silent.
When the blogger finally sat down to write her post, she couldn't remember what was so brilliant and witty and amazing and genius and superb. Not a single brain cell would cooperate. Was it something her child had said? Was it an epiphany from the great beyond? Was it something particular to her hometown?
All was lost.
The blogger stared at the computer screen with her fingernails digging into her temples.
"Why? WHY?" she cried out.
She wiped away a tear and turned her face away from her empty blog post, ashamed and humiliated. How could she even dare to call herself a writer?
Where was her muse? Her fairy blogmother? Alas, they did not exist. Not this day, not for her.
And so the blogger retreated from the blogosphere in defeat, her only hope that a new day would come to provide fresh material for her blog -- something to write about -- a changed perspective and a new view about life, perhaps, that would redeem her blog another time.
That night, the blogger dreamed of joyful typing and commenting and twittering, happily ever after.
Labels: blogging, rants, the mom crazies
posted by Holly at 7:22 AM
10 Comments:
Not to fear, you can always count on blogging price charming to do something that drives you crazy and you need to rant about on the web so that you don't do it to him and poof - you've got content.
I LOVE the idea of the fairy blogmother. That is just so cool. Now there's something to write about.
Heehee, I know exactly how you feel! Except I wasn't able to turn it into a fun post like you did, good job!
"Fairy blogmother" I LOVE it!!!
That happens to me ALL THE TIME, by the way.
For example, WHAT was that brilliant thing your husband said at dinner the other night, which I immediately proclaimed I would write about??!! It's completely, totally, gone forever.
I feel that way all the time. I am constantly writing posts in my head but when it comes time to actually get it in the computer. POOF. It's gone.
I want a fairy blogmother!!!
This happens to me ALL the time!
I completely feel your pain. Hmmm. . . . perhaps I should look for my fairy blogmother at Disney World when we head there ;)
It is so sad when that happens. Those poor, poor blog posts.
Whoa. This was like reading the story of my life these days.
A Fairy Blogmother!!!! Ha, love it!
I've pretty much lost all the good ideas in my head lately. I haven't written something unique, funny, or even interesting in months. I like to blame it on my kids.
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