My writer's block is one of those metal ones that even fire flower Mario can't smash.

Well, I didn't really get all that much gaming done today, not as much as I'd planned, anyway. Still, that's what summer holidays and all the upcoming Sixth Year study periods are for. Also, being outside and studying, but who cares about that?


I think I have writer's block.

I don't get writer's block. I've never had it before. I've had times when I didn't want to write something, be it a blog post, an essay or a short story. All too often, I've written something that I'm not happy with but I've always managed to make something appear on the page.

And now I'm stuck rabbiting on about writer's block, a topic which, I've just remembered and checked upon, I've already used before for an annoyingly short post.

The strange thing is, tomorrow is my first day of Advanced Highers, a big step that's seemed a very long way away for a very long time and still somehow does. I should be able to come up with something about that. But I can't. I'm just stuck looking around my bedroom trying to find something to mention.

I can see a bit of string, a tennis ball, that weird black plastic thing that appears to serve no purpose other than making a clicking noise when I'm fiddling with it, all the crap that's somehow accumulated on my bed via my own unique take on a process commonly called “tidying”, Fedora Linux setup discs that probably came with some magazine, the roll of masking tape for which I neither have nor need an explanation, a Dalek whose plunger makes a convenient storage hook for my USB flash drive, my old TV and the headcrab sitting on top of it, the Roman soldier figurine that stands proudly between a clay penguin and some souvenir that my brother got me when he went on a trip to Russia, the box of Amstrad games sitting in front of the wardrobe that holds more videogames than it does items of clothing...

I think I may have just both overcome my writer's block and summarised my entire life in one elongated sentence.

Cool.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to reposition some of that crap on my bed so that I can, you know, sleep in it. In the bed, that is. Not the crap. That'd be really uncomfortable.


As a final note, the deadline for submitting emails to the EmailBritain archive is almost up. I've already sent my entry and I may yet have another one to send. I highly recommend you try it because you could win a free book filled with people's private correspondence.