I see a button that says inspiration.

“I need to be inspired” I say to myself.

I click the inspiration button, expecting to see inspiring images, such as a verdant, green forest on a beautiful autumn day, or hear inspiring music, such as the opening strains of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.

But, no. Instead, I am assaulted by a message box opening accompanied by an annoying ding. It says “We’re working on it! Promise!”

I don’t know about you, but for me, this is not inspiring. Not in the least. I wonder if the inspiration button ever worked, if it ever inspired someone. My heart wants to believe that once, many moons ago, the inspiration button did perform its function and inspired a legion of writers. My head tells my heart to quit being such an idealistic dreamer. But as I finish writing this, I realize that the inspiration button, while it isn’t working, still inspired me. It inspired me to write about not being inspired. Ironic, isn’t it?