Writers Block

I gots it. Big time.

Le sigh

I've been working on a book---well, two books if you must know, and I assume you must as you're still reading, right? Right. I've had time aplenty to write, but cannot. I have had a few lovely days sans offspring due to it being summer camp time here in our area. This is when children are taken from their homes in the cities and forced to embrace things like dirt, bugs, more bugs, out door sleeping and learning silly songs around a campfire.

Scratch the campfire. There's a burn ban on because everything over on that side of the mountains is tinder dry. So they sing silly camp songs, put on skits and allow their parents (That would be me) time alone to ponder how quiet the house is and how their grocery bill for the week has suddenly plummeted. Kids are expensive little hobbies, but I'm expecting a HUGE return on my investment. If I live long enough. Which I won't.

But that's another post entirely.

During my several attempts to write, I've been distracted by things and not just things in my head. This online world is shiny and pretty and OH LOOK A PUPPY! My brain functions along the following lines:

So you see the problem. Plus, curse you Pinterst! Any other writers out there have tricks to keep them on task and NOT ON PINTERST AND FACEBOOK??

Please to help and thank you very mucho. Oh, before I forget. I had lunch with my father and nephew today. Dad went with me to have my iPhone looked at because it began buzzing this morning and three hours later, still buzzing and no worky. So the genius guys at the Genius Bar did their geniusy thing and fixed it right up. Then we picked up my nephew and took my father to a place called Senor Moose

Hi-Larry-ous. Seriously. It was so amusing that my nephew Chad set his phone to video and taped my father. This place serves comida tipica, which means it's NOT Taco Bell. It's what real Latinos eat, not what our Americanized restaurant chains have brain washed us into believing is REAL Mexican food. Uh uh. No way Jose. This stuff was the real thing. MMMMMMMM. However, my 80 year old father was not amused OR happy. Here's my Dad and my nephew Chad.

This was taken before the food arrived. Mine was to die for! Black beans, platanos, cotija. Oh so good. Chad had something that was so spicy I swear it could take paint off a car. Dad's was chicken with corn cakes, cotija, black beans, some sour cream I think and he HATED IT. First he said it smelled like dirty socks and then he informed us it tasted like dirty socks.

Poop. This post was supposed to be about writers block and how to fix it. Instead I write about lunch.

See my problem?