Good lord I am a linguistically challenged mo-ron these days. It feels like the thinky part of my brain is detached from the speaky part. I know, EXACTLY.
I partly blame the job. I “write” in short hand all day: acronyms, clipped sentences and the like. It’s destroying my ability to concoct coherent sentences. It’s as if my grammar has reverted to a former self. I keep just barely catching myself using the wrong ‘there’ all the time. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot I say!
I also blame my lifestyle choices of the past 2 months. I’ve just been goin’ goin’ goin’. Gettin’ down with my bad self, partyin’ like a rock star, etc. etc. That constant variation of inebriation clearly did not help my already stymied brain cells. Luckily, my wallet and my self respect have finally pulled me into submission. It’s time to take a break and detox. So I’ve got a 1.5 liter water bottle chained to my hip. I’m blowing the gathered dust off of my grad school applications. It’s time to git down to bizniss.
I’m not gonna lie though, this current handicap makes me nervous. It’s so weird, abnormal, to feel so tongue-tied. My statement of purpose is in a primitive rough draft form, and I haven’t touched it in months. I’m afraid to. What if I’ve lost my ability to write like an intelligent adult?? OH CRAP.
I’ve heard though, the best way to combat the mental block is to force yourself through. Just gotta keep writin’. Keep writin’, even when I visualize my typing fingers as clumsy sausages, leaking grease all over my prose.
Current Jam: “Drive Better Drunk” Afroman …. wait….