There are few things in life that make me cringe more than the thought of become a statistic. When I first started blogging, I found numerous data taunting the fail rate of new bloggers, many discontinuing the habit after mere months. Undeterred, I pressed on, fully confident in my ability to defy those odds. Slowly, I went from posting daily to a few times a week, to once a week, to a new pathetic low of EIGHTEEN days without a blog post.
That does not mean I haven’t forgotten about my lovely blog over the course of the last EIGHTEEN days. In fact, I have had nothing but great intentions to write. Actually finding the time to do it and acquiring a clear enough mind to do so intelligibly has been the challenge. On second thought, if I am waiting for a clear mind and intelligibility, we might as well all give up now, right?
Frankly, you don’t want to listen to me right now anyway. I’m overworked, sleep deprived, knee deep in unfulfilled obligations, needing some quality friend time, and having a hard time being my positive, cheerful, optimistic self. AS IF. Okay, better stated, I’m crankier than normal and trying to make sure I don’t drop any of the 3 million balls I’m currently juggling, all while trying to refrain from punching people in the face. I am mentality picturing the blogging entries that could have filled these past EIGHTEEN days and feeling relieved for the art of self-control.
But you didn’t come hear to read about that, did you. Heck, I couldn’t be witty if you bribed me with front row Jack Johnson tickets right now. Aren’t you glad you stopped by?
However, I do still exist and that has to count for something, right?
A Tour of My Parents’ House
2 days ago