Stuck

I sit here, staring at a blank page.

Ok, so its not blank anymore...
Its been blasted hot out lately, with quite a few storms that include thunder, lightning, uber-strong winds, torrential rains, and/or walnut-sized hail. (Very unusual for the Okanagan; they haven't seen stuff like this in like twenty years!) I've been getting up at 6 to go to work so I can quit earlier because of the heat. After work, I either do a lot, or I don't do much, but no matter what I do or don't do, I don't do anything creative. Nothing artistic. I haven't written a song in almost a year. I can't draw. I don't know how to paint. Playing music feels boring right now. Its hot, I feel creatively constipated, and I think I may just go crazy. And I'm thinking this in an eerily monotone voice. In my head. As I write. Good grief I'm bored! Even when I'm so stinkin' busy that I don't have time to be bored I'm bored. Dunno how that's possible, but it must be somehow. I thought that after all the lessons and recitals and things had ended at the beginning of summer, that I would have time, energy and motivation to be creative; artistic. I don't. Heck, I dunno if I even remember how to be creative. I don't want to pick up my guitar. I don't want to try and write a song or poem. I don't want to go plunk away on the piano. I don't want to try to draw or paint, because I know it won't look good. But something deep down inside me is dying to imagine, to concoct; to dream up and fashion... something... anything! But what? How? I think I'm stuck.