Some Sort of Rut?

I just realized that I'm in another rut. A blogging rut, at least. All the blogs I've written since getting out of school fall into one of three categories:

• About buying a house
• About my lack of imagination lately
• Cover topics that begin with the letter B

Ok, so maybe the last on is a stretch, because "Bowling Bummer" and "The Banana Bread Blog" cover completely different subjects. But this is also the Blaura Blog, so it's obvious I have some subconscious alliteration thing going on.

So, does this blog count as thinking outside of the blogging rut box? Unfortunately not; it falls into all three categories. Sheesh, I need to try harder.

Fasting for Imagination

Last night I began a fast...of television. I will allow myself a very limited amount of viewing. I have deemed that only weather reports, and certain HBO programs will be worthy of my attention from here on out. And if you're saying to yourself "hmm, this fast conveniently coincides with the finale of American Idol, The Office, Scrubs, and 30 Rock," well, you might be on to something. I can only imagine what I'll do once Project Runway comes back on.

So what did I do with my first night of freedom from the evils of television? Perhaps I worked on a writing project for a few hours, cleaned up the kitchen, vacuumed my car, or caught up with family members I have been out of touch with? No. Perhaps I went for a long walk, cooked myself a fabulous dinner, or finished reading the novel I've been neglecting for the past two weeks? No. I read a magazine and fell asleep. Not even the ring of my cell phone with David beckoning on the other end could rouse me. And every few hours I opened my eye just a
crack to see my partner in crime, Oscar aka Mr. Blackpants, basking in the new freedom of being so recently released from the shackels of worthless programming.

Tonight I am going to lay a shroud over the television, to symbolize its death in my living room. Not too big of a shroud, though, I might need to watch something, just a short little something, when there's nothing else to do.

Where Has My Imagination Gone?

I keep trying to think of things to write. I keep trying to let myself be swept away by a thought. I keep trying, but apparently you can't force it. I'm stuck in an
imagination rut. Perhaps it's because I've just finished school and my mind has decided to turn itself off for a while.

On Wikipedia, imagination is defined as: the innate ability and process to invent partial or complete personal realms within the mind from elements derived from sense perceptions of the shared world.

I'm feeling abnormal because I'm not able to access my ability to invent realms. I try to access the creative part of my brain, the part that seemed like a floodgate every time I had a deadline. Now it's my job to learn how to imagine things because I want to, not becuase I have to.

But it's not like I haven't been trying. I've been at my computer several times since my last day of class, trying to work out this character I've had in my mind, but my mind feels stopped up. At first I thought I was just tired, but now I feel like there might actually be a clog somewhere in my brain.

I need a brain plunger. Or a brain plumber. Or a brain vacuum. Or maybe I need to just settle down.