I have been working, every day, for the last fifteen days. I have two jobs - one in a shop, one day a week, and one in a museum 3+ days a week - but the museum needed someone to cover one of the office staff, so I've been doing that too. It's been good, but it's been wearing.
I've not been writing for two reasons (both tangentally related to all the work). Firstly, I've been reading Guy Gavriel Kay, and reading fantasy tends to stop me writing fantasy. It's one of the reasons that I stopped reading much when I started getting serious about Greenhelm; that, and I have a problem with picking up 'inspiration'. One of the reasons I write is to provide myself with the stories I want to read; when other authors provide them, I lose all motivation.
The other reason I've not been writing is because I've been in the office. When I'm in the main museum, I have my notebook. I have nothing to do when there aren't visitors. When I'm in the office, there's usually somethig to do, or something that makes it look like I'm doing something, anyway. So I've not been writing at work, and I've been too tired and sick of computers to write at home.
But I want to. I'm not someone who gets writers block; whether or not I write usually depends on how lazy I am. But being unable to write gives me a sort of creative constipation. I can feel the narratives behind my eyeballs. I've done a little work on Greenhelm, but I've not written anything fresh.
But this is my first day off in fifteen days, and I'm back at work tomorrow, so I'm spending today mostly sleeping, eating, and watching Eurovision.
Oh, and watching Sword Dancing in York. I do love my city. When I'm back to a semi-normal working pattern, I'm going to post about traditions and rituals in fantasy, or 'Why the original Wickerman got it Right, and the new one Wrong".