Write or Wrong.

In my fantasy life I am a writer. And by writer I mean someone who writes well, by her own and others' accounts, or on an objective basis, if "well" can be so defined. But over the past few years I have been collecting reasons on why I do not write more. Observe:

1. I have a mild, perhaps subclinical, case of ADD (self-diagnosed, and unabated by my non-medically approved trial of Strattera) such that I have difficulty finishing the task at hand. I would like to point out that Da Vinci only completed eight paintings in his lifetime. But I have yet to write a treatise on painting that has revolutionized the art world. In time...

2. I don't know much. In fact, much of my good writing in college were based on biochemistry and biology -- relating them to real life. The one attempt to escape this ended miserably. We do not talk about that essay today, as I have eliminated all evidence. I keep hoping that keeping up with current events and trying to force an interest in history/politics/social studies will give me more material. It probably will. But reason 1 gets in the way.

3. I am neurotic -- a perfectionist. That said, I take for granted the fact that my writing will fail. To muster up the courage to write, despite the risk of disappointment, is still an aspiration.

4. I am a medical student. Enough said.

But these are excuses. I realize this. And perhaps all I require is inspiration (and the potential of fame; I am, after all a Leo). Who knows? I may find my muse yet.