This can't be good.
Thankfully I've got a few theories about what might have happened.
1. Ever since I got back from this amazing trip to Italy with my husband, I've been having the worst time focusing. Oh and there's this politician that I made out with after a town hall meeting. Whenever I sit down to write my mind just wanders and I end up thinking about how amazingly hot I looked when I met my husband for drinks in Rome.
2. My husband decided to take on this second job as the director of a high school glee club and he sings all these really catchy songs that I just can't seem to get out of my head. All the singing and the dancing makes it pretty much impossible to write anything. Not to mention the fact that he's been flirting with this crazy ass guidance counselor and I'm faking a pregnancy in a desperate bid to save my marriage.
3. The real truth is that I live in this fabulous apartment building and the other night I woke up to the sound of sirens and it turns out that my landlord was found murdered in the pool and I'm a prime suspect in the investigation. I'm sorry, there's just no way I can write when I'm 99% sure that my neighbor is working as a high-end prostitute.
4. I may not have mentioned this before, but I'm an FBI agent that works on creepy cases that totally gross most people out, and I have this uber hot partner who's got this crazy dad and a couple of weeks ago I visited another dimension. So, every time I sit down to write all I can think about is this message that I got in the other dimension that will supposedly save the world. Oh, and my uber hot partner.
5. These new guys moved to my town. They're brothers and they're totally cute, but I'm starting to think something is a little off about them. They freak out whenever they see blood and all of the sudden wild animals have been killing young girls in our town. Needless to say, the entire situation is more than just a little distracting.
Is it clear what's keeping me from my writing? Someone needs to take a sledgehammer to my TiVo.