I'm sorry for neglecting you.
A writer in my critique group, whilst kicking my ass about my MS, also gave me the verbal beatdown about neglecting my interwebz. I guess the problem is I typically blog for one of two reasons: One? I'm really fired up about something that pissed me off on Twitter. Two? I'm really pissed off about something else.
The problem is I haven't had much to be pissed about lately. My job situation remains ambivalent, but that's been the status quo so long now that it feels like normal rather than causing me much anxiety. My marriage is fucking fantastic. I cut the yuck off my Twitter timeline this spring, so Twitter has become a happy place, and in the real world, I have some amazing friends that I've been blessed to spend a great deal of time with lately. And after satisfying my wanderlust with a six city mini-tour, my Kids are looping their way back to me later this month.
So here I am, nestled between two of our three cats wondering when I stopped being a dog person. Not much of a blog there. I'm watching The Depahted and missing my city, but I just got back from Boston three weeks ago, and I think I'm still semi-permanently drunk on Mike's Pastry and Saraceno's gnocchi.
I ain't got shit to bitch about. Except maybe Jack Nicholson's piss poor Bostonian accent. So today, I leave you with a promise to blog more often (even if it's a Seinfeld-esque blog about nothing) and a funny...