In the last 15 hours, I’ve experienced the thrill of spring (with a balmy 71 degrees) and the frustration of ANOTHER “snow” delay (2 hours tomorrow- but yay, sleep!), the delight of reading with kindergarteners and the perplexing questions offered by middle schoolers, the toe exhaustion and blisters produced by my really cute wedges and the comfort and relief of my snuggly slippers, the laugh of an old friend and the curiosity of a new one- so many potential slice of life topics, and yet, here I am- stuck. stuck. stuck. stuck. I remember being about 17 years old and my high school English teacher telling me that when I was stuck as a writer, I should just write, “I don’t know what to write. I don’t know what to write. I don’t know what to write.” Then, the ideas would just come. Well, dear reader, don’t worry! I won’t force you to endure the “I don’t know what to write.” I will, however, share with you all the ways I can describe the word stuck:
held fast. blank. mired down. heavy bucket. Milkduds on my teeth. steadfast. glued to the spot. weighed down. indelible. concrete in the britches. fastened stiff. donkey in the mud. staunch. wedged in. rocks in your boots. Rock City’s Fat Man Squeeze. encumbered. gum on my shoe. hand in the pickle jar.
I’ll try again tomorrow during the “massive” one-inch snowstorm!!