I’m not sure if this is a problem other people have, or if I’m just lucky because I write a handful of blogs that aren’t actually my own each week, but every time I sit down to write my next blog post here, nothing comes. I sit, wondering what on earth I should write about (Grayson milestones? What I had for lunch? Why can’t I keep our dogs from sleeping on our bed at night?), and nothing seems worthy of being in a post.
I could write about how it makes me feel that a close friend closes herself off when she’s going through a lot, and how I wish I could be there for her, but the chasm is so deep now that I don’t know if we’ll ever be as close as we once were.
I could write about how I desperately need to figure out some sort of exercise routine, because I’m not getting any younger, and eventually, the carbs will catch up with me.
I could write about how, this week, I have to write 20 valentines for Grayson’s class, bake cookies for his Valentine’s Day party Thursday morning, go to a birthday party tomorrow night, buy a present for said birthday party, go to Bunco (well, that’s not as much a need as it is a necessity), and make dinner. And laundry. And work. And maybe go to a writer’s meeting Thursday night if my brain isn’t dead.
I could write about how I’m paid to be an authority on content creation, social media, community-building, etc. and when I get home from work (which I love), I just don’t feel like doing any of the above for myself.