There is no writer's block, I tell myself with conviction, staring angrily at the empty page. On the right of my screen, visible enough but not yet too distracting are notes for a bounty I drafted. On the left on my second screen, are a bunch of tiny black squares with white letters prominently placed in the middle. The writer's zoom room. I joined late. Again. I missed the checkin. Today I prioritized making coffee instead of checking in and hearing how others are doing. Last time I joined, which wasn't last week, I was finishing some work stuff. And that's the problem ...

My eyes suddenly dart to the top right when I hear the front door of our apartment block open. I sigh. It isn't my kid coming up the stairs. I have another five minutes. Maybe more.

There is no writer's block, I told kid#3 after she informed me of her new career choices: writer or philosophy teacher. She decided to drop marine biology because it has too much math. Since the announcement that most of our oceans haven't been discovered yet, every kid wants to become a marine biologist to claim undiscovered ground and become famous. Astronaut is so last century. The disillusioned techno-optimist would say that society has eroded any sense of collaboration. Even the youngest of us humans want to be first, beating the competition to the table. Figuratively and literally.

There is no writer's block, I tell myself and spew out these lines, racing against the time when the kids are back home from school. But all for nothing. I've learned that teenagers either love the world or hate everyone in it. Can't predict it, so no need to race and stumble over my words while I'm trying to express - in a foreign tongue - the emotional distress of whatever identity mixture is brewing inside of me.

There is no writer's block, I told myself this morning when getting comfortable on the couch with my laptop. My favorite spot in the morning. Nobody else is on the couch as they all left for school. I've got my topic. My mind is ready for writing. Within seconds of pixels appearing a second article idea popped up. I noted it down, looked at both and froze.

There is no writer's block, I'm telling myself sternly and start with text 2. It will be this amazing exposé about my hackathon submission that someone else will read and transfer 100 ETH to my wallet so that I can build it. But after the first paragraph I collapse. Bland they were! Like nicely lined up trash! No better than any character-slop ai reply bots pollute my world with.

Meaningless. A topic is never enough. I know that. I've done a PhD.

I need a take-away: The one thing I want my readers to remember after they read it. You can also call it a CTA: the action I want my readers to do. The thought I want them to think. The feeling I want them to feel.

I didn't know what it should be.

There is no writer's block, only me indecisively looking at the two take-aways I noted

ps: I get my sh*t together and write these two post about my ethonline hackathon submission: A thesis on the why and a guide on the how.