Brain Freeze

Sometimes the idea of putting something new on paper seems as impossible as suddenly speaking fluent Mandarin. How do I write? I look at something I've written in the past and wonder where did that come from? Nothing inspires. Perhaps it's because I'm in the thick of hibernation season and my thoughts, rather than being coaxed out by the luxury of weather enforced seclusion, are on strike for a warm ray of sun. That, and the raging sore throat that has had me working in my pjs for the last two days, my throat feeling like it's been raked by the claws of a mad cat. It seems the whole world has contracted to the point it could fit on the head of a pin. I'm even bored of reading (that is a VERY bad sign) and it's only the first day of February. Note to self: next trip in for provisions, buy travel mags!