So you fall off the earth for a couple weeks because things just. got. real. Or whatever. And you realize the longer you stay away the less you have to say. And then you come back and post something just to try to get the juices flowing again, and you start to type about how you fell out of bed because you were locked in combat with a giant cobra, but you realize people think other people's dreams are boring (I, actually, love to hear about people's dreams, but from what I can tell...I'm really alone in this). So then you start to tell the story about when you had your wisdom teeth out and you were desperately trying to convince your mother you could TOTALLY go out on a date with that cute guy who will LOSE INTEREST if you cancel, and you realize there was a really, really similar post (only...better) at Hyperbole and a Half, and you don't want to be a copy cat. Then you start thinking about how awesome it would be to go back to high school as you are now, and how you would totally date the cute German boy and the band geek instead of the losers you DID date, and how you wouldn't care about the stuff that seemed like such a big deal, but then you realize you are ripping off a Matthew Perry movie, and damn, that's embarrassing.
So then you go back to reading the archives at Occupation Girl and you get even more discouraged because you are never going to be as funny as Cleo. And then you get over yourself and come type some stream of consciousness gibberish just to try to get past the block because you aren't a person who can talk about going to work and falling in to bed and make that funny, and that's all you've been doing.
You could talk about the Beauty Queen they just hired at your office (she put it on her resume! Yes, I am judging her, I'm sorry) and then you hear her talking to some of the people in the office and realize you aren't going to click with this girl because a.) anyone who says, "I need your muscles - giggle" when asking for help with boxes is...way, way different than you and also b) you overhear her turning down homemade bananas foster french toast because she had a bran muffin and she "doesn't eat that." I cannot trust anyone who can turn down bananas foster french toast (if you are such a person...maybe we can still be friends, but we aren't going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon). But all of that sounds really judgy and you don't know this girl at all and you seem kind of catty (except the french toast thing. I very sincerely mean that).
And then you wind up with this.