I bought this book of writing exercises. Whenever I get to the point where I can’t think of anything to write about, like past the point where I start writing stuff about not having anything to write about, you know, after I’ve already written multiple pieces about not being able to think of something, anything, I’ll whip out this book and do a writing exercise. So I already did one, because I was struggling for something, anything to write about. And I felt, OK, I did it, I got the juices flowing, let’s get to work here. And nothing. I’m at the end of this paragraph and nothing. Jesus.

I really wish I knew how to turn it on, because sometimes it’s just on. I don’t even know how it happens. I’ll just sit down and it’s as if somebody else is writing through me. But then there are days like this where I’ve literally just been staring at the screen, hoping for something to talk about, anything, come on, please. In the book of writing exercises that I bought, the whole idea is to just keep going, even when you don’t have anything, and through constant movement of the fingers or whatever it’ll eventually click. Something has to click.

My jaw has been clicking lately. It was like all of the sudden I couldn’t close my jaw anymore without really forcing it shut, and there would always be a lot of jaw clicking. So I went to the dentist and he assured me that I was grinding my teeth in my sleep. And I assured him that it’s not while I’m sleeping, but that I’m doing it while I’m awake. I just always do. I clench my jaw, tight, especially while I’m sitting at the computer, hoping that I’ll make use of my free time, really just desperate to get some of these blog posts done, because I’ve set up this routine, this daily thing, that I can’t miss one day, and so if I don’t keep up with the writing I’ll be in a bad spot. And yeah, my jaw right now is really tight.

My dentist equated all of that jaw clenching with a body builder who worked out too much. He claimed that my jaw muscles were overbuilt. He suggested Botox to paralyze the muscles. Don’t worry, he told me, it’ll only cost one thousand dollars. Gee, that’s it? “Thanks a lot doc, let me think about it for a while,” I told him. “OK, think about it,” he said, “but do you want me to schedule you in for an appointment just in case you decide to go for it?” I see what you’re doing there doc. Stroking my ego, comparing my jaw to a bodybuilder’s jaw, penciling me in for an appointment that I clearly didn’t express too much interest it.

I clench my jaw when I sit there not being able to come up with anything to write about. I also tap my legs violently. I think tap isn’t really a good word, because it’s not violent enough. It’s not stomping. Whatever, I guess tapping is OK. But it’s so fast, like the table moves. And it doesn’t really help me write. You know what it’s like, it’s this staring at the screen, trying to fish for an idea. And when nothing comes up, after a while the only thing my brain is thinking about is the lack of ideas, and it eventually turns into a physical sensation, a discomfort, and the best way to relieve it, some of it anyway, is to start tapping and clenching. And you know what else I do? I’ll shift positions in my chair over and over again until my back hurts.

If I can’t think of anything to write about, pretty soon the dentist is going to be the least of my concerns. My back’s just going to get worse, I’ll have to go see a chiropractor. He’ll be like, “Wow, you are so strong and well-built.” And I’ll be like, “Really? Go on …” And he’ll start in on the pitch, telling me how awesome I am, but to a fault, so that I’ll need to start coming in regularly for whatever it is chiropractors do.

I don’t know how chiropractors exist. Everything I’ve heard about them tells me to stay away. One time I was in the hospital waiting for somebody and I overheard the guy next to me telling the doctor about what his chiropractor told him and the doctor cut him off, “Listen. Chiropractors are not real doctors. Never go to a chiropractor!” And for some reason that really stuck in my head. Plus, I’ve never met a chiropractor. I’ve met doctors. I’m met veterinarians. I’ve met tons of professionals from a lot of different job sectors. But no chiropractors.

Anyway, I didn’t write about anything, but I got a whole blog post out of it. Somebody once told me something about quality vs. quantity, but I don’t think I was paying attention, because I don’t remember what they were trying to tell me about the two, what point they were trying to make.