Subtitle: Better left unread
I’ve been walking around with what others might call a “sinus headache,” but I believe it’s because there are about 7,000 thoughts trapped inside my head with nowhere to go and, thus, it’s actually my brain that’s hurting.
Can’t recall the last time I wrote what I think to be a proper blog entry. Since I moved to WordPress and now that I cannot modify my f’in template because I don’t know how, I’ve lost interest in this page. And without my SiteMeter, I don’t know if anybody’s reading and I wonder why they even would. 
I have been keeping my journal in my car, but as I have been driving more carefully of late, it does me no good. The only time I’m in my car is when I’m commuting (damn gas prices — I’m spending well above $300/month to fuel my beloved Samantha, a tiny toy car for cripes’ sake).
And when I find time at home to write, well, I’m too lazy to drag my ass outside to get the book. It’s filled with half-assed entries and rants that were started with good intentions of solving whatever self-created drama I sought to immortalize. So, say it with me, “What’s the point?”
The thing is, when your life revolves around one thing (work, and admittedly, gratefully so), and when blogging about work might have gotten you into a spot of trouble in your previous life, you are understandably loath to share anything that might hint (even in the slightest) of things that puzzle or “challenge” you. But it also makes you wary of sharing things that entertain, please or maybe even intrigue you.
So what do you blog about, then, when you don’t have a goddamned thing going on that’s worth sharing? Do you really need to hear about my $275 speeding ticket, my $115 property tax fee (for the joy of vehicle ownership in Virginia), my now-$120/month insurance fees because of an accident that my insurance company claims was my fault despite the fact that Some Dumb Bitch was up MY ass when I was more than halfway backed out of a parking spot?
Oh, and today is the day I am to be given my four-month eviction notice from my apartment. My paycheck waved goodbye before it even got here, and the next one is already half-spent. Not to mention that I forgot to pay my phone bill (since July. whoops), so there went another $165.
Yet, if I look at where I was at this time last year (jobless), I wouldn’t trade this year’s mess for the world.
One day, I’m going to get over being scared of my own shadow — says She Who Used to be Fearless — and quit simply being grateful that things aren’t worse. I’m surrounded by success stories — it’s time I figured out how to become one of them.
