February is a blah month.
It's so blah, it got its own lame holiday. Sort of like Thanksgiving is a consolation prize for November having to be November, except that Thanksgiving is a homey, warm, comfortable holiday with family and pumpkin pie (or better yet, French silk) and those little squishy white buns and you don't have to have a significant other in order to have a nice time. Valentine's Day, on the other hand, is a sort of a consolation prize, but more of a slap in the face. The people who are most in need of chocolate are those not in relationships. But the primary way of getting chocolate on V Day is by being in a relationship. A conundrum if I ever saw one.
Anyhow, my point is that February is a depressing, grey, slumpy month that doesn't even have Thanksgiving. I don't think it's humanly possible to be inspired in February.*
So I'm going to blame an entire month of mostly not writing and not doing anything but practical homework on the fact that it was February.
(Okay, yeah, it's March now and almost April, but maybe this February was blahher than usual and the aftereffects slouched into March.)
I have finally picked myself up and, doggonit, I'm going to write.
That's a promise.
Either blog posts or snippets or whole novels, I will write! Doggonit, I will WRITE or I will WRITE about NOT WRITING!
*The exception being that I did come up with the idea for my current project in February like four years ago. But that's mostly irrelevant.
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