Wednesday Doldrums
This blogging business is hard! With no theme for my posts (technically, I suppose my life is my theme, but my life isn’t usually very thematic. Maybe I should get pregnant with quinttripletuplets or start collecting buttons…), well, blogging is more of a chore than I thought it would be!
For example, have you noticed this is only my second blog post since this experiment started? I am either lazy (yes) or paralyzed by the fear of writing something subpar (also yes) or suprisingly put-off by the whole nature of blogging. Yes, blogging itself. You don’t realize until you’ve lovingly typed your own witticisms and shepherded them into the ether that blogging must be, for most, a singularly unrewarding medium. At least I knew, when I wrote my college essays (the night before they were due), that they would be read by someone - albeit most likely a cranky, over-worked, professorial someone – but at least I would know that what I had slaved over for, say, five hours or so would be mentally consumed.
Did you (and by you, I mean, presumably, me, and maybe my husband, when I make him read this post so that this sparkling wit will have some outlet besides my own mind, and so that I am calmed by the thought that I am not merely an auto-avatar)….anywho, did you ever keep a diary as a kid, growing up? And when you did, did you imagine that, well, ok, I’m writing this to be spiritually whole and in tune with my chakras and all that, but really, I’m writing this to all those people in the future who will discover these “inmost thoughts” and immediately establish the temple of Countrymouse (or, you know, whoever you happen to be) because of how philosophically enlightening your mullings on the nature of life, the universe, and everything are (via the perspective of a seventh grade beanpole)? Because that’s how fabulous you were at the age of 8, 11, or 18? Not that I thought that at all, of course.
But if I had thought such things, I think I still do. And, thus, this blog is just my “howdy” to the future, even though presumably no one here in 2009 (wait, is it 2009 already? According to my diary, I’m supposed to already be a movie star/philosopher/island owner) really seems to care? Let’s hope so. I could really do with having my very own effigy at some point. Even if I do happen to be dead at the time.
