My mom asked me a few weeks ago if I'd lost interest in my blog. The short answer is, no! I haven't! Not at all!
The longer answer is... long. And I don't know if it matters. For one thing, I don't really have time to write at work any more, which is where I previously did most (all) of my blogging. "I just don't have time" isn't really a valid excuse, though, because I have plenty of time after work. I just have a hard time convincing myself to start up the computer at home when there's laundry to be done and a Tivo cache that isn't going to watch itself. I've long been a believer in guilt-free blogging, so I try very hard not to let myself feel bad about letting the space between posts slip from days to weeks. But I miss it. And the longer I go, the more overwhelmed I feel when I do get the urge to write something. Where to start, when a month has gone by? I don't delude myself into thinking that anyone is really dying to know what they've been missing (hint: not much), I just sort of lose my place and then wander away to eat another of the cookies I made this weekend. They're pretty goddamn delicious, if I do say so myself.
Anyway! The point is, I haven't lost interest. It's just the ebb and flow of internet life, with an extra side of ebb. To try to snap myself out of it, I'm going to let go of my perfectionist tendencies, which dictate that things I write should ideally have a beginning, middle, and end, and you know, make sense. Poppycock, right? Being less hard on myself has only been a goal of mine for the past two decades, so I'm sure it will be no problem at all.
The point of that point is, I do miss you interent.
Hey, want to see a picture I took?
See, this is working better already.