The First One About Being a Terrible Blogger

I know I’m supposed to wear the hair shirt, be self-deprecating and make excuses for my total lack of regard for blogging. I do know that. I promise. Can we just skip it though?  Let’s say I did it and you made the appropriate noises back and now all is forgiven.  Deal?

Thanks. I just knew you were the one who really understands me.

Life, man.  It’s out there and it goes on whether I write about it or not. There are strange things afoot at the Circle K: Cousins smacking the snot out of an inflatable baseball in the living room at my mom’s place while playing a game with unspoken rules that only they understand.  Wrecking my closet to find something to wear for an appointment.  Eating cake and pasta and more cake with the people who make me feel welcome and whole at the Tracked party last night. Refreshing the link repeatedly to F&SF’s queue to see if I’ve moved up in position.  (I haven’t.)  Sleeping, talking, driving, listening, overreacting, cussing & fussing, and just living my life.  That’s why I haven’t written.

It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.  You know you’re special.  It just means that I love me too.  And sometimes that has to come first.

TL;DR I’ve been busy and you’ve missed me.  Don’t worry, I still love you the most.


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