"Shorter of Breath and One Day Closer to Death"

I am under a writer's block.

I don't believe in regular writer's block because you can just write I have nothing to write over and over until something comes along or doesn't.

"Under a writer's block" means life is heavy and consuming and there is seriously no time to write. OK. In all honesty, I could have put down Wings last night, but I'm just so tired from working and -- fine, I admit it -- I did some life-living this weekend, some fresh air-breathing, talking to live humans, music-and-dancing life.

And oddly, I don't feel bad about it. This is weird because I am a certified guilt factory.

Just so you know, the absolute worst part of writing is the waiting. Still not being done with this novel reminds me of suffering through last period in high school. No matter how much I rage inside, time will continue to move at a rate of 60 seconds per minute, 60 minutes per hour, and so on. There is nothing to do but, well, whatever you do.

When writing, every time I dream up an awesome idea that needs to be foreshadowed in an earlier chapter (which is already finished), I have a mix of dread and glee: happy I found a missing element in my plot, pissed I am adding yet more time to an already much too lengthy task.

I want it done. I want it to have a cover and starred reviews and readers who wish they could meet my main character. And I want it to be exceptional; that takes time.

I suppose that's why I don't feel bad about relaxing under this writer's block. I'll get up soon. My words will still be there, and I will have a little more experience, and hopefully some freshly cooked patience.

Moral of the story: Doing fun shiz is part of the writing process. Do you agree?