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It's been more than a year since I showed up here and wrote about shit. In that time, I had a challenging year during which I turned FORTY. Yup, I'm fucking 40.
So, what do I have to say for myself?
I have missed this blog terribly--the way one misses a close friend and confidant who has been incommunicado for one reason or another. The way one misses a therapist she can no longer afford because the one therapist she's really liked over the years does NOT take her insurance. Shit.
I love to write. I write for a living and have done so in various ways since I was 24 years old. I am lucky I enjoy my work. But, damn, it cuts into my personal time way too much. Who came up with the 40-hour workweek anyway? Sure, it'd be great if I could survive on 4 hours of sleep a night without killing anyone. But as it stands, I get about 6 hours of personal time each day. That's an hour in the morning to shower, drink coffee, chill with hubby, tend to cats and get dressed, then 35-40 minutes to commute to work. After work, I get about 5 hours: an hour at the gym (3 times a week), shopping, errands, occasionally seeing friends or catching a movie. Then, a 40-minute commute home, followed by shower, dinner, relaxing and reading. Another day GONE.
Oops... I didn't make time to write. Shit.
So, as part of my "doing more shit for myself in 2011" campaign, I'm going to attempt to set aside time to write at least once or twice a week, the way I once did. I may rant about politics, as I did so often throughout the last days of Dubya's first term and about half of his second. I may spew stream-of-consciousness stuff about music, as I often have in the nearly 10 years of this blog. I may ask questions, just to see if anyone's reading.
Who knows? Guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out.