I’m pretty sure there are dementors lurking somewhere in the File Room.

There’s just no other way to explain why my job has been so stultifying lately, to the degree that I’m exhausted at the end of the day, and for no apparent reason—other than the fact that I literally get paid to sort paper. But I like the dementor excuse. This way I can make myself feel better for the fact that, after two posts, I’m afraid that I’m running out of creativity already. In my head, I imagined putting up about a gazillion posts a week, being totally hilarious, and getting about five million followers in about two days. But so far that hasn’t been at all the case. This is actually kind of harder than expected! (That’s what she said. Also, The Office has ruined me. I can no longer look at any sentence like that and not think of it as an innuendo.)

It’s like, the minute I decided to start this thing, my creative juices decided to spontaneously and collectively drain entirely from my head. If you’re reading this and thinking, “wtf was she thinking, and where are all the funny posts that are supposed to be on this blog?” I promise you that I’m working on it. I have some early ideas that may or may not turn out to be funny. They just need to be cultivated. And maybe injected with funny. And maybe magic.

But back to the dementors, I’m thinking they’re probably in the top shelves of the File Room, avoiding detection, draining precious soul whenever I walk by. I should bring chocolate to work. That always seemed to help Harry. That and a Patronus Charm. Mine would probably end up in the shape of a five-legged platypus. I had better pick up a wand on the way to work today. And then master the charm in the twenty-to-thirty-minute commute. Because that’s the epitome of responsible driving. Texting and driving? Eff that—way too dangerous. Practicing fighting off dementors while you drive? Piece of cake.