Perhaps it’s because I spend six to eight hours, Monday through Friday, writing news commentary, that I’m having a hard time coming up with non-political material to write about for the weekends. After all, not everyone eats, sleeps and craps politics like I do and you need something different to read from time to time.
For the past several weeks my ‘inspiration well’ has been dry. Oh, I know that there is something deep down at the bottom – my bucket jus’ doesn’t seem to reach it at the moment.
Worse yet is my so-called obsessive-compulsive disorder. I nearly freak out as bad at the thought of a day going by without a post to my blog as I do when I sit for an hour or more and find the page before me completely blank.
It’s not like getting up and checking five, 10, 20 or 40 times every evening to see if the doors are really locked, nor is it the same as washing ones’ hands over and over all day, until they’re raw and chaffed. But it’s pretty damned close.
And so far they’ve yet to develop a medicine to cure this writer, who’s so uptight at times that seeing the abbreviation O-C-D, drives him nuts. I think it’s some sort of sick joke shrinks love to play on their patients.
They know good-and-well the effing letters are alphabetically out-of-order!
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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