The worst part is, this isn't even writer's block. This is...hesitancy. And it's not fun, I can tell you that dang much.
Remember the little superstitions people used to tell you? Like that one when you were little, if you turned your pajamas inside out, it would make it snow? Or those ones that linger, like knocking on wood so the bad luck won't come after you. What do we do for this? And no, I don't want to be drunk for the rest of my life like a lot of writer's of old used to deal with this problem. Maybe if I say Ella Wheeler Wilcox three times, I'll get some inspiration?
Gah! You little writer--constipation? Oh, man, that sounds gross. What are you? Why doth thou plagueth me? Go, shoo, find a better host!
Now what to do? Just cross my legs and wait for the inspiration to come. See you all later. Gotta see if my legs can bend that way.