Block, Party

I have been going out a lot lately, due to going aways and the many expectations of being a deejay; and, recovering from my, many, hangovers has proven to be quite detrimental to my writing motivation. And things have been good lately, I got fantastic job, a dream job actually, working for Edmonton's culinary magazine and quite frankly I find it hard to write when I have nothing to bitch about. It raised the question of whether my writing depends on my misery. It would seem as though when I am miserable bitch I am a very clever young writer, but put a little pep in my step and I am rendered useless. Now the last thing that I want, is to be known as is miserable, but I need to be writing more than I have been in the last week. A conundrum, if you will, be happy and have an empty page or be a wet blanket and have pages full of ink, hmmmm... Life and all its mysterious questions have this young lady extremely baffled. But I'm sure I'll figure it out.