Juice, or the lack thereof
Thanks to a small handful of generous and compassionate readers I now have the funds necessary to establish with a new local primary care physician (thanks to Will Campbell I may have found one here in Echo Park, just west of Stories Books and Cafe on Sunset) and arrange a few other matters such as long-overdue laundry.
A few weeks back an editor I have worked with in the past, and one who has had to cope with the arduous process of kicking narcotic pain medication, advised me to “not try to write anything at the moment”. I now recognize that she was spot-on. Nothing I attempt to pen currently is coming out right; my mind clouds over too easily. Granted, I no longer nod off like a narcoleptic at any time of the day or night but consciousness is just a wee bit different and something of a major adjustment after a five-year dependence on opiates.
So I need to focus on adapting to that adjustment and cease trying to will my creative imagination onto paper. The juice just ain’t there. There is a potential academic writing project I’m interested in pursuing that may be more to my liking at the present time but more on that when, and if, it develops.