The Pen is Mightier

You may have noticed that I haven't written as frequently this week as I usually do (and if you haven't noticed, then clearly you don't read my blog often enough and I hate your guts). While I try not to stress about blogging as if it has deadlines, standards, or any importance whatsoever, there's still a subtle, interminable self-assessment that is constantly running in the background. Meta-blogging, if you will.

This week, I've realized that the decline in post-frequency isn't for want of ideas, nor of time. Instead, it's a lack of a muse. The Writing Muse is a fickle thing, an ephemeral little faerie that likes to flirt but never seems to want to put out. She's the worst kind of tease, but I love her anyway.

Sometimes, a little respect is all the Writing Muse needs. For example, it is not uncommon to curry her favor with a purchase of coffee. I ain't sayin she's a gold-digger...

Often enough, a little deceit is all it takes to melt the ice. You can't be too needy - staring at a blank paper, pen in hand, will only leave you blue. In fact, it is often when you least expect it that the Muse takes your side.

I was sitting in the student center on Thursday, poring over papers on post-stroke rehabilitation of the upper extremity. Every author had a different opinion about the mechanisms of neural reorganization, and most had the evidence to back their opinion. As confusion turned to frustration, and hot coffee turned to lukewarm sludge, the Writing Muse started whispering in my ear.

An hour later, I had the first draft of an Introduction section for the writeup of my project, complete with references, neurophysiological explanations, and a testable hypothesis. What had started out as a study session had become a hot-and-heavy make-out session with my Writing Muse. This is the real-deal, folks. It's only a first draft, but this is dissertation material. Ooh, it feels good to say that.

On the downside, all of the research-related writing has held back my blogging. It seems that there's only so much writing I can do in a day. This downside is completely negligible to say the least, especially when compared the giant strides I'm making towards being an actual adult of some sort.

I haven't ridden my bike in a week. There's no Karaoke until f'in December. My left knee cracks when I look at it funny. Will's cyclocross debut has inflated his ego, setting back my efforts to give him a body image complex. And yet, I'm so happy!

You know what? It felt so good before, I'm going to say it again: This is dissertation material. Yes.