Writer's Block and a quick short

I sat at my computer all morning trying to do some homework but managed to get only a measly 500 words or so down. I'm glad I started early becasue i have a feeling that this semester might get pretty hectic.

Getting tired of doing reading, I tried to begin chapter 4 of Irredeemable but to no luck. I fear the dreaded writer's block may have struck me again. Even with my story plan and character backgrounds, I just couldn't start.

But in an effort to cheer myself up I quickly wrote up this short in only about 15 minutes. It was a quick experiment about just trying to get into a flow and put some ideas down. I'm feeling pretty confident about writing and am going to absolutely get that new chapter done tonight, after work. Wish me luck.

The Dreaded Wait
By Tim Harvey

I walk for hours and I write a sentence. I miss the feeling of walking quickly, a lap of the block, and rushing home to write for hours. I think for hours and pace around the house quietly. When I look at the clock, only a few minutes have passed but it feels like hours. I wait to go to work, and I wait to do some homework. When I am not writing, I am waiting.
I revisit old projects and I read all of my old stories. Some of them are good, some are terribly written. Some are full of charm and some are just boring. Most are long but unfinished.
I lapse back into old habits and I miss the Summer. I feel tired and worn out, but the short sentences I manage to write are full of optimism. There is a flow there, coming from somewhere. As I write one sentence, I am thinking of the next one. Sometimes I can write it and sometimes I have to give up and walk again.
But when I come back to the computer, to the writing station, I find it hard not to put a new idea down. The issue is with over-focus and over-concentration. When I forget what I am doing and finally stop thinking I can lose myself in the writing. I read short stories and watch short films. I have so much to do but I still spend time waiting.
I sit at the computer, the word processor, the typewriter, holding the pen in my hand, and I follow my thoughts. I chase them around my head like a game of snake on a long-forgotten mobile phone, trying to avoid getting into a loop. When I get on a roll, I am unstoppable. But it is hard to get onto a roll if you spend too much time trying.
When I can get a good sentence down I feel happy. When I struggle with the next I feel sad. If I worry too much about that next sentence, then the first one makes me feel bad too.
I think about new projects and wonder if it is fair to start something new and probably abandon an old favourite to the wastes of my desktop. The folders, of which, are crowded with the skeletons of past endeavours. I know that I probably won't get around to finishing any of those old stories. I hope that one day I get a spark, a massive surge of energy that forces me to go through each and every one of my old stories, editing, re-drafting, making good.
I probably won't do that, but one day I will try. One day, when I'm not busy waiting.