A Drought in the Sausage Factory. – By @oliverdfinel

A Drought in the Sausage Factory. 

Coming up with fresh new strategies, ideas ad executions every single day is tough work. 

Sometimes, it comes easy. Ideas come in a flash. Everything flows and seems to come together quite nicely. 

It’s one hell of a high. 

However, these moments are few and far between. 

Most of the time, I find myself chasing that high. Begging for it to come back so I can escape the hellish territory I call ‘The Drought’. 

But there’s no pill I can take, or spell I can cast, to bring me back into this dreamland of productivity and out of ‘The Drought’. 

So what is ‘The Drought’ exactly? 

‘The Drought’ is a place I find myself in quite often. 

It usually starts when I’m sitting in front of a blank page. Thinking of a new proposition. A poster idea.

And nothing comes to mind. 

Absolutely nothing. 

I go from my living bedroom to the bedroom. Take a bathroom break. Hoping inspiration will strike. 

Alas, nothing. 



That’s when I start to worry. 

Am I even good enough for this? 

Were all my previous ideas just pure luck? 

How did I even get so far?

I’ll never have another idea in my entire life. 

That’s it. I had a good run. 

The machine-gun of self-doubt is on full-throttle. 

I can try to chill myself out by telling me it’s just impostor syndrome. But then I start doubting that impostor syndrome isn’t an actual thing. Or at least a thing reserved to REAL creatives. 

I start stressing out big time. 

Trying to SCAMP or write stuff down. 

Still, nothing of value comes.

Every single idea is basic at best. 

I go to bedroom.

Put my head against the pillow to limit my airflow. 

This usually helps me have a flash of brilliance, 

But when choking myself into having ideas doesn’t work…

I fall into a despair nap. 

I wallow in self-pity until I feel so sorry for myself that I make a decisive move to the living room. 

I fire up my computer and tell myself’ 

‘This time I’ll get it right’

‘You’re not a piece of shit’ 

‘We’ll think of something sick.’


The cycle will go on until a deadline approaches. 

As I inch ever closer to the cut-off date, I know I have to come up with something. Or they’ll find out I’m a hack. God knows, I can’t let that happen. 

And so… I drag myself out of ‘The Drought’. Anxiety subsides. 

I start crafting and thinking properly. 

A bit later, I’ll turn into an absolute work horse. 

Churning out work like an absolute madman. 

I’m in the sausage factory and nothing can stop me. 

I hit the deadline with flying colors. 

And then… I slightly sink back into ‘The Drought’.

It’s hell all over again. 

Now, if I could only stay in the sausage factory for longer…

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