Delinquent Writer.

It's true; I have been a delinquent writer. My fingers reach for the keys...only to draw back. They quiver. Wringing together, they attempt a second try. Third. Twentieth. And finally, here we are amongst the darkest hours of  Writers Block. Again, it's true that I haven't done much writing--at least on this blog. Or on any blog. Only scribbles here and there to be scattered among dejected notebooks from college classes filled with the initials of my crush.

 Alas, it is time. "I, Lindsay, promise to take thee, Creative Writing, and to uphold thee on a regular basis and to care for thee until death do us part." Or, until I decide my fingers and I are done. Perhaps this means I need a deadline? (Julie & Julia, I am inspired if not to eat, to make deadlines and follow them through, thank you.) I need to at least make a promise to uphold, such as "I promise to write two hours per week; Monday and Wednesday".

And here I revise my previous statement:
"I, Lindsay, promise to take thee, Creative Writing, and to uphold thee on a regular basis and to care for thee for two hours every week in sickness and health, sunshine or rainpour. Lord, help me. Amen."

Signing off for now,
Lindsay Kate xo