To be honest, sometimes (not often, but occasionally) the captain of inspiration and motivation and political incorrectness sits at his keyboard with that stupid, vacant, I've-got-absolutely-nuthin' look on his face. In his normally, sharp-as-a-tack mind (okay, that's a big lie), there's a bloke riding a unicycle, wearing big red shoes, a green bow tie, and a yellow fluffy wig. He's juggling seven balls and has that far-away look in his eye. The light is on, but nobody's home.

He's experiencing a momentary creative drought. Mister Life Renovation has fallen headfirst into a cerebral abyss. His mind is like one of those bananas he left in his school bag for two weeks in year nine. He rewrites the same sentence six times and stares pathetically at his screen through his bloodshot eyes.

Why on earth is Craig writing in the third person when it's so annoying and embarrassing? Idiots do that. He should really cut that out.

Sorry, couldn't help myself. I laugh my guts out when people do that: "Sammy, daddy's not happy with you, and you don't want to upset daddy do you?"

Sad and hilarious - Daddy's an idiot. Craig thinks he might do that more often, just to annoy you all, or perhaps not.

Some days, after spending fifteen hours dealing with the realities and practicalities (a.k.a. egos, attitudes, and personalities) of my life, I find myself sitting at my trusty old laptop, floundering in my very own creative void. With physical and emotional exhaustion wreaking havoc on my brain's already diminished level of function, I have been known to write three crappy sentences in a hour.

Today is not such a day. Well, actually, they may be crap sentences — that's for you to judge — but there will be more than three per hour. Today was a post waiting to be written. Today, life smashed me over the head with the discomfort stick. Today, a life-lesson grabbed me by the throat, threw me against the wall, kicked me in the gut, picked me up, and then slapped me around some more. It jumped on my head a few times and then poked me in the eye with a big stick.

I loved it, and hated it.

He who dispenses the discomfort had it dispensed on him. I did it again, didn't I?

This morning I had to give a presentation at an event called "Speakers Showcase." My speaking agency invited a whole bunch of companies who regularly use speakers to come along and listen to eight of their presenters, of which I was one. The representatives from the respective companies are buyers. They are shopping for talent to use for their corporate conferences and programs (speakers, coaches, motivators, facilitators, and educators).