The worst thing in the world when you’re a writer is writer’s block. I thought that after I cut the idiot ex out of my life, things would totally turn around for me professionally. And I was completely wrong. And for one stupid reason.
I can’t write without him. He makes me absolutely bat shit crazy, and I want to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him every time he speaks, but without him, I can’t get the words onto paper.
That, my friends, blows more than Lindsay Lohan for a cocaine dealer. So I was thinking of various ways to solve my problem. And I came up with nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Maybe a posting on Craigslist can help.
I’m thinking something like this: Chunky brunette writer seeks tall, dark handsome man for dysfunctional relationship. Must be willing to call out the wrong name during sex, tell me I should diet, and be so self obsessed even his own mother hates him. Nice guys need not apply.
Any takers?
Check Out:
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