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Stopped by the Seine

So there I was, writing away at a post about a cheesy movie, when I began to write a sentence I had clearly written before. I completely remembered writing it. Those words were in my head, and I had put them there. Definitely. There was no way I could continue the sentence I was about to write next without using those very words again.

Why, you may argue, would that stop me? I repeat myself in this blog all the time, especially when I’m having any kind of trouble writing the damn thing. I argue back, in the first place, give me a break. In the second place, this sentence involved a murderer dumping a dead body into the Seine.

How many movies could that possibly have happened in? And how many of them could I possibly have seen recently? I was stopped cold.

Before I go on, a little background (another way to put this: in my defense). Earlier this week I experienced a flood. No, not as bad as other people have experienced (I’m also quite certain I’ve written about how there is always somebody who has worse problems than me), certainly not as bad as it could have been. But, still, a pretty bad experience.

I believe I mentioned briefly yesterday that some have believe I am handling it well. Oh, I am trying to. I really, really am. But at intervals, I suppose it’s bound to happen: not so much. I was having, as they say, a moment earlier today. Rather than write about it and look like I was making a colossal bid for sympathy, I decided to write about the cheesy movie I had viewed. Surely that was a good plan (and I’ll call you Shirley if I want to).

My first move, when I could move at all after coming to a complete standstill, was to go to the computer and search previous blog posts. Hmmmm… nothing that takes place in Paris, no place where I possibly could have mentioned the Seine.

After a couple of more distractions (when I have a moment, I really have a moment), I found the notebook I have been writing blog posts in for the past couple of weeks. On going through the whole thing (it’s not a big notebook), I found very few movie posts, none I did not remember, and no mention of the Seine. I sat and pondered.

At last I picked up the TV Journal. Oh. There it was. In a note I had made about the very movie I was attempting to write a post about. I tell you what, I felt so stupid about that, I almost had another moment.

But not quite, because I thought I could make a decent blog post about that silly writing crisis and then I would have two posts for the price of one. I ought to anyways, because I’ve taken a long enough time about this.

By the way, my moment is over. I’m back to handling things, if not exactly well (I’m not that competent), at least cheerfully and with a sense of humor. No need to make a colossal bid for sympathy. Thank you for bearing with me.