It's amazing how a subject can occupy so much of your thoughts and yet your actions toward it are non-existent.
And working out.
And unpacking those last two boxes from our move three months ago.
But we all know which of these concerns me at this moment.
And unfortunately it has nothing to do with a treadmill.
Yeah, lately I've thought about blogging at least ten times every day, but for some reason the urge isn't quite enough to actually do it. I think I'm in that funk again where I'm analyzing it way too much...as I told a friend the other day: every word I type out here I imagine some one person I know reading it. But it's difficult to consider your audience as individuals when you blog; there are too many people who read me from different areas of my life, and trying to write directly to every individual is a fruitless concept, to say the least.
So I suppose I should just get back to the basics, and start writing for myself again. I'll be breaking a number one rule of any type of writing, and that is to consider your audience.
And ya'll will just have to listen in while I talk to myself.
Can't stand to see a zero comment. I talk to myself and now I answer myself. It is neat to talk to yourself cause no one interrupts. Everytime I talk to myself a picture comes up in my mind of Mama pushing a string mop and talking to herself. rw
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