Why I can barely write

I have TWO big excuses for this one, so it makes up for not posting an excuse yesterday, even though my excuse for that is totally separate.

I'm a writer, or so I tell myself, but even if I am someday published or a script is produced, I must admit I will probably never make a living doing it for I am simply not prolific enough. Every time I sit down to write I am distracted by something shiny. That's excuse number 1, being unable to sit at a computer and write without hitting a block after ten minutes and then spending the next two hours wasting my brain cells on the internet.

Excuse number TWO is that while I often come up with fun little story ideas, few ever inspire me enough to finish them. I'm a person who has great stories to tell but rarely the inspiration, the drive, the motivation. I also self-edit like a mad man when I SHOULD be drafting until I come up with a complete pile of shit but a FINISHED pile of shit, that I can then make less shitty. I'll get three pages into something I'm very excited about when I sit down, but once the fire is lost it never comes back and I lose it in record time, every time.

Maybe it's just not for me. I know it's not true, it's been my favorite daydream for years now, above directing or photography or music or any other interest of mine. Yet I still talk myself out of writing, and that's the biggest excuse of all. This BLOG, in fact, is one gigantic stream-of-consciousness excuse to make me write SOMETHING every day until I'm in the habit.

A blog about excuses that is itself an excuse. How meta.

Why I ha...disliked a Customer Today

So despite my lofty ambitions in life I am at present a Gay Barista in New York City. My excuse for capitalizing that is because surely somebody has written a book about us gay baristas at this point; there are enough to form an army. I won't tell if you don't ask.

Anyways, a customer today was DISGUSTED, just absolutely DISGUSTED that in the process of separating her drink cup from its brothers in the same sleeve, my fingertips touched the inside of the rim.

If any of you reading this are recoiling in horror, let me assure you I had not spat upon the cup, picked my nose, or scratched my balls in the process of reaching for her plastic beverage container, merely did what the laws of physics and biology deemed was necessary to separate the goddamn things.

I have an excuse for my distaste for her, and it's based on logic:

I hope this woman never rides the subway and holds onto the pole. Or, like, breathes the air around her. You're in New York, honey; wear a protective bubble around your head (your ass doesn't count) or move to a cabin in the Appalachians.

Bullshit, clock

Clock, I am calling your bullshit! It is not 1:30 in the morning on Monday, it is 11:30 on Sunday and I'm setting the date on this post back artificially to prove it!

I have an excuse.

See, I was coming back from Brooklyn to the Upper West Side and forgot that the 2 trains run local late at night so the trip was going to take three times longer. Also, there might have been a pack of ninjas involved.

I swear I was going to update again yesterday, promise!

My Excuse for Almost Not Creating this Blog

First of all, let me address the pressing problem of why the blog title and the blog address are not exactly the same.

mydailyexcuse.blogspot.com

The address already exists, obviously created by someone who is very adept at excuses.

Seeing this threw me into a state of anxiety and upheaval over what to make the blog URL, and that was my excuse for almost not creating the blog at all.