Whining About Writing? Or Writing About Whining? You Decide!

I have just spent the last half hour or so--maybe even more, my sense of time has been impaired by one glass too many of a rather passable syrah rose--trying to think of something interesting to write. It's been far too long.

And, judging by the amount of creativity not flowing at all through my brain at the moment, it's going to be a little longer. Dang.

Of course, since I am currently in the throes of a particularly fiendish bout of writer's block, I went to my email inbox this morning and found a note from the administrator of the creative program in which I am, to my own continuing surprise, enrolled and which starts this November. And after reading, I nearly died. Of shock. And deep, abiding alarm. Allow me, if you will, to share the pertinent Excerpt of Doom which caused such a gut-wrenching reaction:

We are still making some final revisions to the MFA Student Handbook, so we won't be able to email it to you until late next week. In the meantime, I want you to have the attached pdf, which is an abbreviated version of the handbook and includes information that probably most concerns you right now. For example, the Worksheet (which is your piece for the residency Workshop) is due Wednesday, September 27. (emphasis added)

What? I have to turn in a story BEFORE the program even starts?? By September 27??? Why, that's less than 100 years away! What am I going to do?

Where are those four Apocalyptic horsemen when you actually need them?

Er, wait. I think I know.

Ok, so there are more important and terribly horrendous things going on the world begging for the attention of humans and Rapture theologians alike than my whining inability to come up with anything to write. I admit it, fully and completely. But I'm still going to whine. Why? Because that's about all I can do! I can't think of anything to write, remember?

Hey, a thought just occurred to me. How come I never get whiner's block? I mean, that's something that I'd actually like to have. It's something that could actually do me--and my patient, patient readers--good.

Which, of course, is exactly why that is the one thing I will never, ever struggle to overcome.

So typical, really.