Trust not too much

Think about it.  Give yourself 30 seconds, and diagnose a problem.  And give me a solution.  Well.  More for me, really.

I've all but let go of writing recently.  They say when will you write again, they say where was that review of Star Wars?  They say isn't it a shame.  They even said you should write a book.

I always wrote as if I was in the centre of a narrative.  My life had a direction, even if I didn't know what it was, because things were happening that were taking me to different places.  Now, not so much.  Or at least, I don't really see it that way any more.  I came to realise that all of my problems were the same problems that everyone faces, give or take, rather than to try and frame it into a narrative where I overcome various challenges as set by some malevolent deity (or Choirmaster), and enjoy a moral and societal feeling of justification.

I had to down tools about 8 months ago, as I thought that things had gotten a little too close for comfort really.  It was impossible to talk about problems without maintaining the usual veneer of almost respectable semi-anonymity, which then got in the way of basically everything else that I wanted to do.  Once upon a time I had grand designs for a fortnightly schedule, but because of one thing or another, I let it go.  Creativity took a back seat to, well, I don't know, the abyss.  My obsession with long form also doesn't help, but neither did the nagging feeling that I was wasting my time with people in particular.  It's not just institutions that close their ranks, after all.  

There's also something about regular work that's upset the ship slightly, but the massive increase in salary and disposable income must make up for that, surely?  (You are not your bank account)  But surely, the major flaws of data entry and answering the telephone leaves me with little in the way of feelings of accomplishment; I regularly attend admin "team" meetings (because everything is a team these days - not a kitchen but a catering team, not a choir but a music team &c &c) where I bring up that really anyone could answer the phone and unjam the photocopier (actually it seems I'm almost the only one who can), only to be told that no I am valued and a special unique snowflake that they couldn't do without and it really doesn't ring true.  It's okay to have someone employed as the monkey who answers the phone, but not okay to make it seem any more than that.

Anyway.  It's about time I came back, somehow.  It's boring, not writing.  And I hate being bored.