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slipjig3I have no idea what to say.
There are certain protocols that go along with returning to blogging after an extended absence: the "yeah, it's been a while since I last posted" shrug, the catch-up details on what's been going on, the indication that regular posting will/may recommence. (Apologies for any of the above are optional. Unless you're me, in which case bring on the wailing performative regret!) I've done a thousand reboot posts like that, and I am sick unto death of writing them because I always do them wrong, with all my mea culpas for things that don't need mea culpa-ing and all my promises with no stiff cardboard backing. All I know is that I've been wanting to get myself moving again on journaling for months, but have had no gumption to do so.hypnagogie just started up again with daily morning entries after a very long absence, however, so I'm going to borrow a cup of gumption from her and see how this goes.
The lack of initiative has largely been because Life decided to shake stuff up like a souvenir snow globe: first, I moved to Brunswick, Maine to be withhypnagogie on shorter notice than expected, to an apartment with a purple front door and its own washer-dryer. The good news is that the apartment is amazing, Brunswick is amazing, my life up there is amazing, no regrets. The bad news is that Maria Kondo-ing and packing up my accumulated worldly possessions had to happen VERY VERY QUICKLY, as did getting Nik off to Job Corps in Vermont, so March and April were downright gonzo-pants. Well, that and the other bad news that I'm still working in Lexington and the powers that be have denied us the possibility of working from home, so I get to commute 2 1/2 to 3 hours each way, five days a week, complete with Boston-area I-95 traffic both coming and going. That level of nonexistent work/life balance doesn't leave much brain-space for ruminations on, like, coffee cups or season 2 of Fleabag. (OMG watch Fleabag seriously because I can't even with the thing it's SO GOOD.)
So yes, I want to write, and no, I have no idea what to write about. I'm trying to remember that back in the day, lack of content was hardly a hindrance—behold, World, my lunch choices! Are you not entertained?! How on earth did I do this several times a day? It probably has something to do with being in my 30s, and/or having nothing better to do. Whatever. My apartment has a purple front door, my job has good free coffee, Fleabag is available for streaming, the sky is up there, the earth is down there, ob-la-di, ob-la-da. Meet back here tomorrow? Same time, same place?
There are certain protocols that go along with returning to blogging after an extended absence: the "yeah, it's been a while since I last posted" shrug, the catch-up details on what's been going on, the indication that regular posting will/may recommence. (Apologies for any of the above are optional. Unless you're me, in which case bring on the wailing performative regret!) I've done a thousand reboot posts like that, and I am sick unto death of writing them because I always do them wrong, with all my mea culpas for things that don't need mea culpa-ing and all my promises with no stiff cardboard backing. All I know is that I've been wanting to get myself moving again on journaling for months, but have had no gumption to do so.
hypnagogie just started up again with daily morning entries after a very long absence, however, so I'm going to borrow a cup of gumption from her and see how this goes.The lack of initiative has largely been because Life decided to shake stuff up like a souvenir snow globe: first, I moved to Brunswick, Maine to be with
hypnagogie on shorter notice than expected, to an apartment with a purple front door and its own washer-dryer. The good news is that the apartment is amazing, Brunswick is amazing, my life up there is amazing, no regrets. The bad news is that Maria Kondo-ing and packing up my accumulated worldly possessions had to happen VERY VERY QUICKLY, as did getting Nik off to Job Corps in Vermont, so March and April were downright gonzo-pants. Well, that and the other bad news that I'm still working in Lexington and the powers that be have denied us the possibility of working from home, so I get to commute 2 1/2 to 3 hours each way, five days a week, complete with Boston-area I-95 traffic both coming and going. That level of nonexistent work/life balance doesn't leave much brain-space for ruminations on, like, coffee cups or season 2 of Fleabag. (OMG watch Fleabag seriously because I can't even with the thing it's SO GOOD.)So yes, I want to write, and no, I have no idea what to write about. I'm trying to remember that back in the day, lack of content was hardly a hindrance—behold, World, my lunch choices! Are you not entertained?! How on earth did I do this several times a day? It probably has something to do with being in my 30s, and/or having nothing better to do. Whatever. My apartment has a purple front door, my job has good free coffee, Fleabag is available for streaming, the sky is up there, the earth is down there, ob-la-di, ob-la-da. Meet back here tomorrow? Same time, same place?
