Succumbing to the January Blues


I'll be completely honest right now. I'm stuck. The inspiration well has gone and dried up again (as happens a lot of us, many, many times), and I'm stuck for words and ideas and I'm getting super frustrated, and my last hope of coming up with anything is just through a rant. So bear with me.

I've hit that big, stupid, ugly, metaphorical brick wall again where my mind is nothing but dust and fluff and complete and utter nonsense, and I want to write but just can't, and I get so frustrated and bemused and annoyed at myself that all I want to do is sleep.

Sound familiar, anyone?

I'm also utterly devastated that Christmas is over, for more than the obvious reasons because let's not kid ourselves here: January sucks. A lot. And we try to fool ourselves with empty promises of new beginnings and resolutions and the fact that we picked up a sparkly dress we'll never wear for a fiver in a high street sale somewhere - it all sucks big-time. I don't like January whatsoever - it's cold and dark for most hours of the day, without the added joy of seeing Christmas trees in everyone's living room windows; you're expected to actually leave bed and go back to doing stuff everyday, even though it's dark and gross outside, and the media's forcing this resolution BS about losing weight and cutting out alcohol and whatever else down your throat at every turn - I mean seriously, what if I don't WANT to change??

Gosh, I'm just so full of JOY today.

So if you've any suggestions for what the heck I could possibly do with my life to inspire myself whilst I'm still on Christmas holidays (yes, still), then please, oh please, send them my way, and I will be eternally grateful. If not, I'll just sit here on my bed and continuously bash at my keyboard (I may or may not use my actual head) until something worthwhile comes out. God, writer's block is so infuriating, isn't it??

As for my life, I just finished spending all my Christmas money on clothes as of yesterday (if you're completely incapable of handling your finances too, put yo' hands uppp) and looking at my wardrobe fills me with warm, fuzzy, materialistic glee. I won't lie to you all, I danced a little dance of triumph in a changing cubicle in New Look yesterday because I'd finally found a pair of full-length black dungarees that fitted me in the waist and were short enough for my little legs. Victory was finally mine.

Like Tom Haverford said, love doesn't last, but things are forever (until the uber cool high fashion circle declare them ridiculously uncool and you have to throw everything out and start all over again. But such is fashion / life). (Also, #treatyoself).

Other than that, I've been doing what everyone else does around Christmas - moping around, eating my weight in food and sleeping.

It's no bloody wonder I'm stuck for inspiration. Goddammit.

Ciara x

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