It's been an incredibly strange week so far and suddenly, out of nowhere, I seem to have no interest whatsoever in writing anything. It's not writers block. I spent the morning jotting down some story ideas for a few short stories I want to write, so I know my creative juices are still flowing. However, actually getting up (or sitting down rather) and typing it out has been impossible. It's not necessarily that I am unable to write decently enough. My creativity is still there and I am able to write just as I did before. It just seems I have no interest in it. I already know why I can't focus. To put it briefly I finally found my two sisters, both of whom I haven't spoken with in over twenty years (I'm only twenty-two, mind you). Coupled with the impending holiday season and near constant rain (thank God) my life has been full of everything from joy to relaxation to a feeling of perfection in all ways... except my inability to excite myself via writing. To put it bluntly, writing is my current job. The place I worked at went out of business and suddenly finding work somewhere else has been horrific. So while I'm looking for work I'm also spending the hours constantly writing. Or I would be, but I cannot keep my focus. And THAT is my question. I do not have writers block - I am perfectly able to write a story - but I cannot keep my focus on it. Immediately my mind shifts to other things and I find myself jotting down plans for early December or fixing up my bike so I can ride up to Oregon. I should be enjoying all of this and, strangely enough, I am. And yet, it seems that something which is so dear to me means nothing. I am perfectly aware that this is a passing phase, but I am a man who enjoys learning the lessons of life. I could give up and dive head first into the absolute happiness, but I know it will eventually come back to bite me. So, instead of allowing myself to do what is comfortable, I need to do what is necessary. Unfortunately, I need some advice on how to keep focus. Any advice, any tips, anything is greatly, greatly, greatly appreciated. I'm always someone who demands people take personal responsibility and do what is right, and yet now I'm sitting around like a nine year old boy waiting to unwrap a Christmas present the day before. It's so strange that when I write I often have turmoil in my life, and yet as soon as everything is perfect I lose my willingness to waste my hours writing.