I blame three things for my shortage of writing over the past year: Facebook, Netflix and yoga. I blame them for other things too but it’s a rather long list that I will dissect, without doubt, in future blog entries.
I never wanted to join Facebook and had pooh pooh’d it for several years. But then one of my ex-boyfriends wanted to show me his wedding pictures. He said all I had to do was log in to Facebook to see photos of his stunning bride, the lovely but casual ceremony, their beautiful guests, and the perfect honeymoon in some far away land. After I logged in and ooooh’d and ahhhh’d over their pictures, I started getting friend requests from every corner of my life. They were all there: Church friends with whom I skipped Wednesday night youth fellowship to play pinball, High school classmates trying to plan the 30-year reunion, and former co-workers from jobs I hated. Facebook quickly became a time suck what with having to look at all the graduation, Bar Mitzvah and new puppy pictures not to mention having to read about who got divorced, who quit their job and who ate what for dinner. This all took away from the already too few hours I had to write. And worse yet, Facebook was beginning to alter the way I write. It was no longer about creating a 500-word amusing blog post in order to please my mom and be showered in her affection. It was now about scribbling a one-sentence witty statement in order to please my Facebook friends and be showered in likes.
So Facebook was already acting as a writer’s block when along came the blue ray DVD player with streaming Netflix and four seasons of the television show Breaking Bad. Doc B, my significant other, is a chemist so I was fascinated by this show’s premise: a high school chemistry teacher turned meth maker. I figured I’d watch a few episodes and move on to something else. Well that something else might as well have been a methamphetamine-induced coma because four seasons later I’ve got nothing to show for it but a dozen new ways to use the word bitch.
So how has yoga played a part in my writing shortage? It doesn’t; I just thought it might make for a more intriguing first sentence.
Anyway, now that I’m caught up on Breaking Bad, and have vowed to limit my time on Facebook, I can focus on writing again. Well, at least until Breaking Bad resumes.