I have a gigantic ceiling fan in the bedroom. It’s like a medium-sized helicopter. It’s on full blast all year long. In winter, especially, coupled with an open window, it’s exquisite.
But yesterday I suddenly became preoccupied that it would fall out of the ceiling and murder me. So I lowered the speed and spent the night suffering from no wind to speak of blowing into my ear and next to no noise from the rotator blades.
The whole day went to the dogs as a result. It was a succession of stupid decisions like I was competing for the Moron of the Year prize. And the worst part is that it was supposed to be a great day because I’m on my yearly writing retreat. Guess what wasn’t done at the retreat. Exactly, writing. Not by me, anyway. Everybody else was writing up a storm, except for me, the champion moron.
Tomorrow is day two and I’m hoping not to be quite as much of a disaster.
Clarissa's Blog 
I have actually had the glass globe fall off of a ceiling fan in the night. It broke on the floor.
If it bothers you… box fans and fans-on-stands are not expensive.
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The standing fan is not doing it for me at all.
I can’t believe I’m being so fussy about this but it’s a fact.
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I love ceiling fans and I cannot sleep without the sound of a fan. I’ve read this is the aural version of horror vacui (fear of emptiness) which makes it sound like a pathology.
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“I suddenly became preoccupied …Guess what wasn’t done at the retreat. Exactly, writing”
Mr. Headshrink McQuack (sidewalk psychoanalyst extraordinaire… that would be me) thinks this sounds like a classic case of self sabotage. For some reason your sub-conscience doesn’t want you to write so it finds an excuse (sudden fear of murderous ceiling fans).
What would you have been writing and why is your sub-conscience so alarmed at the idea that it shuts the process down?
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“What would you…”
Just to be 100% clear, I think those are questions you need to answer for yourself, no need to share the results with anyone else unless you want to.
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I was going to enjoy it too much, that’s the problem. I sabotaged my own enjoyment which I do more often than I want to recognize.
Let’s see how it goes today.
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