My muse seems to have buggered off for parts unknown. My writing is flat and uninspired, no new ideas are jockeying for a chance at their 15 minutes of fame, heck, even my hair is drab looking. (Note to self: must find time to go in and get your color touched up. The skunk look does not become you.) I've had fleeting hints of inspiration (a trip back to Renaissance Europe for Writers Island's "time travel" prompt, a book review I've been wanting to write, tortured descriptions of the rain streaming down outside my windows, recipes to post, an Ode to Mount Laundry...) but nothing is coming together. A few more days of this and I'm going to have to resort to posting silly little "what color flower are you?" quizzes and other drivel.
Tell you what. I'm going to
Hello? Hellooooo? Hellooo-hellooooo-helloooooooo?? Echo-echoooo-echoooo... Anyone out there? Bueller? Bueller?
Damn, now I've scared them off.