I think it's because I read this whole pile of things on how to write well last night. They took over the portion of my brain that used to be capable of at least transferring the story to paper, even if it wasn't perfect. Grr. Who care's if it's perfect? It's a freakin' rough draft for crying out loud. I can edit! GRRAR!
With that in mind, I'm going to try and finish the five pages I promised myself I'd write today. I have to at least get to the part where the crossdressing prince jumps out his castle window. Geez.