that time my Dad was right

Next week, I will have been being bloggy on this here blog basically every day for eleven years. For me it’s not JUST telling you what pants I’m wearing or what catastrophe I’m currently wringing my hands over, it’s also discipline. It’s an exercise in making a promise to oneself, and keeping it. It’s also an excuse to pause each day, form a thought. It’s a collection of memories, it’s how I know what I was doing on Thanksgiving five years ago, it’s how my old self gives my present self advice, it’s, okay IT’S MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD, because it’s nothing and everything, because it’s whatever it wants to be, because it’s Mine. But. Lately, my brain has been stretched so thin with various projects that I find myself approaching this space like the box checker that I am — blogging frantically, like QUICK DO A GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH OF THE FIRST WORD THAT COMES TO YOUR HEAD AND PUT IT UP WITH PERHAPS HALF A SENTENCE, and for what? For who? And so, as my Dad gently suggested a few weeks ago (THANKS DAD, DON’T CHOKE ON YOUR I TOLD YOU SO!)  I’m going to simply remove the pressure to be here every single day, and instead, just when I really have something to say, perhaps more like 3-4 times a week. I mean, it’s like they always say. You’re never too old to listen to your Dad, and you’re never too young to have human feelings for the internet. Okay? OKAY, SEE YOU BACK HERE TOMORROW WHEN I AM PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF NOT BLOGGING, BYE!


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