Yoooo, hooooo, Muse????

I don't know what's happened, I used to love to write, and I did it with ease and a great deal of confidence. I don't seem to have either these days and I'm really bummed about it.  I know it's not nice to hate something...but frankly....I hate my muse.  I've no idea where she's gone, and it disturbs me that she might never return...it doesn't just disturb me it frightens me out of my wits. 

I don't know how many years I've got left, but the thought of never writing again is a big, dark, down right black hole I don't want to fall into.  I know I promised I would be back here writing more frequently, and I've left you down...even worse...I've let me down.

I'd like to find my muse and strangle her.  Does she not understand the pain and agony she's beset upon me?  I imagine her off somewhere laughing, drinking margaritas, sitting on a white sandy beach not caring a 'fig' about me.  I want to get mad and write in spite of her, gull-dang-it.  Still as far away as she is at the present she has this powerful hold over my fingers making it difficult to simply try to type each word. There seems to be a weight upon them and errors occur with each strike. 

I know these are impossible questions to answer; however, I'm going to ask them anyway.  How do I get my muse to come back?  Can I bribe her?  Should I buy her an expensive present?  Should I threaten I will find a new Muse, better, younger, more vital than she?  Or, should I continue to remain patient, silent and wait for her return?  Sigh.

Color me sad. 

Yoooooo, hooooooo, Muse?????????