Here’s the thing. I WANT to get back into blogging, but I’m feeling a major lack of inspiration. I like to blame it (and everything else) on the fact that the love of my life lives 3000 miles away. No, but seriously. It’s become a major crutch. It started out innocent enough. “I’m weirdly attached to my phone because I miss him and he might call”. It started to go downhill…“I’m not going to go running today because I’m sad that he’s not here”. Then it really snowballed…“I’m not going to get out of bed today because life is too unbearable when we’re separated”. And then it took a turn for the ridiculous…”I am going to listen to all of my Christmas cds in September because I miss him and Christmas makes me feel better”. Don’t worry, it’s a totally healthy relationship. You might think “codependent” but that’s just another word for “love”, right?
So there’s that.
And then there’s the lack of really good material that’s leading to this inspiration-less fog. As much as I could fill pages and pages up with “TRUE LIFE: This really IS my job”, I’m hesitant to do that for multiple reasons. But seriously you guys…it is unreal. Also, I feel like a lot of bitterness would spring forth if I opened up the floodgate that is the “My new boss sits directly across from the break room so now I feel really self-conscious about the number of times I make trips to the water cooler every day” issue. BUT, I have an obligation to my readers that I have not been fulfilling, so…we’ll press on.
THEN there’s the fact that there’s just not enough hours in the day. Thanks to the end of daylight savings time, my body is calling it quits right around 7:30pm these days. The sun goes down and suddenly my brain is all “well, it’s been fun, but that’s about it for me!” as if he were stuck in the farming days where life and death depended on the rising and setting sun. [yes, my brain is a he. Whatever] So that leaves a pretty small window of opportunity between “getting home from work” and “collapsing into bed”. And I’m sorry, but it becomes more important to fill that small window with the really essential things like “eating” and “watching The Biggest Loser”.
Enough excuses, Wirth. Time to get back on the wagon. Or off the wagon. I never remember the correct use of that metaphor. I would google it to verify, but I really miss my boyfriend.