It barely rained at all this April, but we’ve had spectacular flowers anyway. Once it did finally start raining in May, everything started growing, growing, growing. Sprouts, shoots, branches, buds, springing up from every empty space. Cracks in the sidewalk, the space between the slats on the porch, the nook in the tree, chinks in the concrete slab back steps, in the gutters on my neighbor’s house, the storm water gutters in the street. There is a weed in my neighborhood that is close to two stories tall. I think it grew up in about two weeks. Everything is green and growing.
I’ve been making Briscoe run with me recently, partially because the puff has gotten fat, and partially because I’m out of shape, and partially because pretty soon it will be so hot that the puff won’t be able to play outside unless it involves swimming. She gets really hot.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this blog, and blogs, and life on the internet. I recently celebrated my sixth blogiversary, and I’ve become a very slack blogger. I don’t necessarily mind being a bad blogger. But I realized this morning that more importantly than me not blogging, I haven’t been writing much recently. I stopped writing on a regular basis at some point last year, I think. I made excuses that the writing I did at work was the reason for my lack of motivation to write. My new job doesn’t afford much writing, and I can’t use that as a reason anymore. And I still don’t have a lot of motivation to write, which makes me sad.
I know there are other reasons I lost my motivation last year. And I think I know what they are, but I’m not sure they make sense. There were times I was too miserable to write, and times when I was too happy to write, and I’m inclined to say I was also too busy. But I hate that excuse. I don’t care how busy you are, you make time for the things you love. Like the people who tell me they love to read, but just don’t have time. If you loved it that much, you would find the time. Maybe it is simply an over use of the world love. You can’t love an indefinite number of activities. For instance, I like to bake, and I like to cook. But I love to run and I love to read (and I love to drink beer and wine, but that is probably another post). So when I come home from work, instead of going to the grocery story for lots of fun food to prepare the new recipe I just found that I’m excited about – I come home and put a leash on my dog and go for a run.
That’s not to say that I don’t ever cook, because I do, but mostly because I get hungry and have to eat something after I work out, not so much because I just love to do it.
So maybe I just don’t love writing as much as I wish I did. It is sort of like running, in that it can feel like work, but you always feel much better afterwards, and the more you do it the more enjoyable it becomes.
In other news, the new Frosty Card is out. For a dollar you get free frostys for six months! The best part? When your little card’s time runs out – you can buy another card for another dollar! Sigh. It’s one of the greatest things that ever happened. Thank you MCG Children Medical Center for making my summer exceptional!
Also, I would really appreciate it if someone would go to the mall and buy me a bunch of new clothes that I would really like – I need some work clothes and some fun going out clothes and a couple of really cute dresses to wear to weddings and engagement parties this summer. Make sure it is the right size, will be flattering for my figure, is a good color for me, will be appropriate for the occasion, is comfortable, and isn’t too expensive. Thx.
Is the frosty card just an Aug thing? I got real excited about it last year and never found one in the big city. When I come and see you which I hope is sooner than later can I get a frosty with you?
I hope writing becomes enjoyable to you again or you just accept that you dont’ love it. I go through stages and for about a year I have written mostly out of “ought to” feelings and rarely because I want to. Hate i! Miss you, ckp.