Not Feeling the Flow

I don't call it 'writers block.'
I call it: not feeling the flow.
It sounds nicer that way.
And I have this superstition like if I say I have writers block, then I have it. If I don't say it, then I don't have it. It's like- say, OCD. If I say I don't have it, and say it three times fast after tapping my nose three times in a row with my left pinky finger, then I don't have it.
It's called magical thinking, and I love it, don't care if it's a sign of mental illness or not.
Google it. It's a thing. For real.

Besides, I don't really consider myself to be blocked.
I mean, I could write, if I really wanted to. I'm writing right now.
But I simply don't want to- in either of my WIPs.
Writing isn't always easy, and I think that this is where I sometimes feel misunderstood.
People have said to me "I wish I could do that! Just sit down and write a book!"
Well, ya. You and me both, baby.
I can't just sit down and write a book. It takes weeks and months of dedication, of commitment and sacrifice. Of blood, sweat and tears.
OK. Maybe not blood.

But it can be long, and it can be lonely-- shutting yourself away from the TV shows people you love.
And this is a difficult thing.
I used to put a lot of pressure on myself to write. Even if I didn't feel like it. I would make myself. "Just one page..."

But lately I have let a lot of that go, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
On the one hand, I tell myself that I should focus on the things that are real in my life.
By real I mean- the things that can give back to me.
Like my kids.
Like my husband.
Like my job.
If I become successful at writing, I'll look back all those months and years I spent writing and call it 'perserverence.'
If I don't become successful, I'll call it what?
A waste of my time?
Time that could of been better spent with my kids? Or my family? Or my friends?
Or, perhaps, more importantly- finally getting acquainted with Jersey Shore??
Honestly, I feel like such a loser sometimes at the water cooler. I don't even know who Snooky is!!
"Oh, sure you do!" my coworkers insist. "She's the orange one!"
"Oh," I say with a slow nod, although this does nothing and I mean NOTHING to clarify things for me. The orange one- what the fuck??  How am I missing this??
They take in my expression and then exchange quick, wary glances. I can practically hear their thoughts: "she hasn't got a clue...Just drop it."
And then they change the subject, ask me, sort of sadly "How's the- erm, book, coming?" (like they're scared to say the word 'book', like maybe they don't believe that there even is one) and then exchange other, nervous glances, that seem to say to me "just indulge her on this."

Anyways.
I don't know.
First of all- who says what "being successful at writing" means, exactly.
Does it mean- simply the act of completing a manuscript?
Finding representation for it?
Getting it published?
And if it gets published, and it tanks, are you successful still?

Maybe.
I don't know.
It just seems that there's always another hurdle.

How do you define being successful?