writer's block

My watcher at the gate is a small, slender woman with big, black, thick-rimmed glasses who is also always dressed in an all-black business suit and holds a scorching coffee in her hands. She always has her nose up in the air because she is better than anyone else and nothing, to her, is ever good. She is very serious and harshly scrutinizes every word I write down on the page. "No. This is okay, but it is not good enough. Start over," she constantly repeats after every sentence. I take in her advice and I think to myself, "maybe this really isn't good enough..." and I erase the entire line and sit for a long time with a blank expression staring at the empty white paper. She lives in a small cubical, night and day, and makes lists of what I am doing wrong with my writing. Like I said, she lives solely on coffee; no food is required for her to survive.