This is, rather, a post for posting’s sake, a post attempting to get out of the way the things that are keeping me from writing the things I actually want to be writing.
Which is to say: stand by for serious whining.
Those of you who follow me on Twitter know that getting where I am today — literally: I’m on vacation in Prague — was a good bit harder than I really needed it to be. (Short version: flight from LA to NY was unavoidably delayed by a medical emergency on board, making me miss my connection; all subsequent flights were overbooked, and I only made it out 24 hours later than expected by the grace of an extremely generous agent in the Lufthansa lounge.) I’ve now been here for five days, however, which would seem to be enough to allow me to get over the difficulties and begin recovering from the jet lag.
Except that immediately upon arriving here, I started getting sick. And I can’t figure out what’s wrong. Is it just a really bad allergy attack? In which case, why aren’t my allergy meds working? Is it a cold? In which case, why is pretty much everything I’m taking making me feel worse rather than better?
More importantly, why is it inevitable that I get sick right at the point when I most want to enjoy the limited amount of time I have to dedicate to resting and reading and thinking about my own projects?
On top of which, as long as I’m complaining, I’ll add that my ability to turn to my own projects is being stymied by that One Last Overdue Commitment — a peer review of a very long book manuscript — that I have spent weeks working on and yet cannot get finished up for anything.
All of which is to say that I am hoping by the power of this post to exorcise all the things that are so viciously clouding my head, and having done so, to find my way to both the rest and the creative energy I desperately need right now.