Two Months With Nothing To Say

Wow. It’s been about two months since I’ve posted to my own blog. I always thought of myself as a chatty Cathy but for a while i’ve been…what’s the word I’m looking for?…oh, yeah! I’ve been lazy. Not just lazy but also a tad empty headed.

I have the utmost respect for my friends who write professionally. I have absolutely no idea how they do it, especially the ones who write for REAL publications on a regular basis. Me? My light bulb goes dim every few months and I forget what I want to say, I get distracted by a shiny new toy or I think that nobody is going to give a rat’s patoot what I have to say anyways. Which is why I feel sorry for you poor saps on Facebook and Twitter. You guys have to listen to me! Unless you unfollow me or defriend me.

Please don’t unfollow me or defriend me. I’m sorry for mocking you. Come back over here and sit next to me. I’ll share my Nilla wafers and milk with you.

Which brings me to this post. I’ve started and stopped at lease a dozen other posts on this site. They ranged from my experience with the government’s use of Twitter at the OEI Symposium (in May!!) to the BP oil Spill (sad, but really no longer topical) and also the effects of the prescription drugs I’m taking, my job hunt, bad television, horrendous boob jobs, cartoons and ice cream. I’ve come to the realization that if I’m going to keep up with this then, dag-gummit, I’m going to have to get onto a writing schedule. I remember that I used to try to post three times a week. Man, am I slack.

I’m going to go over here now and sit in this comfy chair and ponder what to write next or what to complete. You go ahead and keep yourself busy while I do this. Oh, and if you look over here and my eyes are shut I’m not sleeping. I’m resting my eyes and concentrating, focusing all my energy towards finishing something. Anything. And that’s not snoring. I’m Tibetan throat singing.

I leave you with this parable from a great, great philosopher:

One time I hired a monkey to take notes for me in class. I would just sit there with my mind a complete blank while the monkey scribbled on little pieces of paper.

At the end of the week, the teacher said, “Class, I want you to write a paper using your notes.”

So I wrote a paper that said, “Hello, my name is Bingo. I like to climb on things. Can I have a banana? Eek-Eek!”

I got an F.

When I told my mom about it, She said, “I told you, never trust a monkey!”
The end