Just a short entry today.
I was tired last night and went to bed reasonably early, for me. Not sure if it’s the lack of cable or what, but I’ve just felt a little more tired this week. But, still, it’s Wednesday and time for, well, something. Some thought or some vague semblance of a statement about, well, something. Because it’s Wednesday and, if you look back at the last couple of months archives, you’ll see that the pattern is for me to post something on Wednesday. Or, more precisely, to post something every other Wednesday. That pattern of posting has become a promise of sorts. A promise of consistency to the small hand-full of readers who still show up to see what strange ramble, screed or rant I’ve thrown against the wall. Will it stick?
When I think about it, it bothers me a little that I’ve written so much here, but so few have read it. I suppose that my playing it safe and being careful what I write has lead to that steady decline in commentors, if not readers. Oddly enough, when I was in the middle of my divorce and not caring at all who saw my raw emotions was, perhaps, the hey-day of this blog, its peak. But, then, as I started to worry and fret over future employers seeing this blog and thinking that I might alienate them, or potential dates, via something that I wrote, my topics changed and got safer and my audience dwindled, or at least changed.
I don’t know what that all means, really, other than the fact that I’ve noticed it. Oh, thankfully, there are a few die-hard fans who stick with me, even through the boring, normal life periods like this one. If they hold on long enough they know that things will turn and I’ll get hooked up with a disgruntled house-wife looking to score some Hemingway or some Poe, maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll be looking for Lovecraft. Then things will get lively again with tales of being shot at by angry husbands or chased by dogs.
Or the cancer will come back and give me something to whine about.
Or some other horribly funny tragedy will befall me and compel me to write about it, much to the amusement of … Someone.
In the end, of course, I’d probably write this blog just to write. I don’t think I could keep from writing it, not even if I wanted to!
And, in the end, I suppose the compulsion to write is as good as any excuse to spit up these words on a page for everyone to read.
So, I’ve got that going for me.
Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"The weakness of men is their facade of strength; the strength of women is their facade of weakness."