I’ve been reading a little, doing crosswords, studying a GMAT Review book and been going to movies and museums. I’ve also developed a paralyzing phobia over writing – I just can’t seem to write these days about anything. Not poetry. Not journals. Not short stories. Taking my writing class has actually made things worse believe it or not. I haven’t done one homework assignment and the piece I turned in to workshop I wrote months ago. I’m not sure why I can’t seem to write anything. I believe I have inherited Phish’s “Waste” as my mantra lately:

Don’t want to be an actor, pretending on the stage/

Don’t want to be writer, with my thoughts out on the page/

Don’t want to be a painter, ’cause everyone comes to look/

Don’t want to be anything, where my life’s an open book/

A dream it’s true/But I’d see it through/

If I could be/

Wasting my time, with you

Only problem is that I’m alone – the “with you” part makes no sense because I spend an awful amount of time by myself. I’m home all day by myself, I’m home all night by myself. So, I’m wasting away with myself (and my crossword puzzles).