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It's been a while.

To make up for my two month lull, I thought it would be prudent to vent about my current plague of writer's block. I'm supposed to be writing a paper for my Working Out writing seminar, and I just can't find the 1500 words that I need. What can I say - I've got nothing to say.

The fact of the matter is that I don't particularly CARE about the topic (aerobic exercise in senior citizens and its ability to prevent brain deterioration). And when you don't care about something, it's tough to really elaborate beyond a single paragraph.

But it's not that I can't express myself. I mean, I have this blog as evidence to the contrary. It's not that I fear the written word. Nay! The pen is my sword, it is my knightly charge with which I express and project the wondrous thoughts that brew in my most lofty of thoughts. As a human, as a being whose ability to speak and communicate is truly divine in origin, it is my pleasure - even duty - to creatively spout forth original works. See the paragraph before Yishtabach in Shabbos psukei d'zimra for details. Also the haggada.

But alas, for although my ability and deisre to write surges within me like a muscular beast, it also cries out in despair, for it has been shackled to the grindstone that is my writing seminar. Rather than be allowed to run free, to build great buildings, to do great things, it is forced to march in mindless circles, bearing the whips of petty criticism and unchangable deadlines.

So I have decided to allow my beast a brief recess on the playground of this blog, so that he may feel somewhat rejuvinated upon his return to that dreadfull grindstone.

Alas, I hear the schoolbell ringing.