I haven't written in ages. I haven't played piano. I haven't read. I've eaten, slept, breathed, and pooped software documentation. I'm exhausted. And my imagination-starved brain keeps coming up with bad metaphors to describe the situation.
If the little mazes and fissures in my brain were hiking trails, they would be all overgrown and nearly impassable.
If my brain were bread, it would be all green and moldy.
I just want to sit and write for a few hours. Or a few days. Doing so would be akin to cleaning out several months' worth of packed-in dirt under my fingernails. (This metaphor is particularly bad. I am a chronic nail-biter and my fingernails never, ever grow long enough to actually store dirt.)
OK. So maybe it would be akin to flossing all the gunk from between one's teeth after not flossing for five months. Ah, that one is better. Flossing is one of my preferred writing-procrastination activities.
I've been at my new job for exactly five months now. I can hardly believe how much I've learned. While my creative/literary brain has been collecting mold and dirt and tooth gradue, my logical, student-who-loves-to-learn-new-stuff brain has been running along as smoothly as a high-scoring game of Pac-Man. Waka-waka-waka. I've been gobbling up little morsels of knowledge about topics I never dreamed I would want to learn about.
I met two deadlines last week--deadlines for projects I'd started on back in June. New projects await me when I head back to the office on Monday, but I definitely have a "clean slate" feeling right now.
A clean slate. Freshly flossed teeth. My bathtub after being attacked with Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. I'm ready to do some real writing.