And She Don't Care

It appears that I have lost my desire to blog. I know, I know. You had no idea. I did a good job of covering it up, I admit. Anyone who happened upon my blog would surely have no idea...but it's true.

Hold your tears. Never fear: I am certain that one day I will again have many thoughts that I feel compelled to share with anyone bored enough to stop by here and read them. Lately, however, while I have had many, many, many thoughts, they've all been the sort that my mind guards jealously. I know that common theory holds that we should all be very "sharing," but my mind has never bought into that popular culture stuff. It does its own thing, and it feels quite all right about that. Who am I to question such contentment?

Since I'm typing, I'll update the nonexistent reader on my current state of affairs. I am sitting in a hotel room in Cincinnati. I just returned from a very tasty dinner that was followed by a very tasty dessert: Hot chocolate creme brulee. Dee. Lish. Ous. It tasted exactly like hot chocolate, but with a bit of a cayenne kick at the end. I will likely crave it for the rest of my life. Were I not extraordinarily confident that I will develop other more easily-satisfied cravings I might feel despondent at this thought. As it is, I just wish my cravings would start to skew more toward cucumbers and further away from buttery, creamy richness.

I might read for a bit, since I'm clearly not inspired to write. Oh! I have an idea! Any non-existent readers that don't read this can feel free to suggest a short story topic or idea, then I'll write that (very) short story as a posting! YES! I am totally off the hook, as my non-existent blogging has led to a very, very, very small blog following. Pretty close to zero, I think.

I hope I don't read this later and suggest a short story topic for myself. Damn. I should have considered that danger before posting such a brash and overconfident suggestion. I can never fully trust myself when it comes to things like this...

For the past few days, I've been sort-of planning out the travel that I intend to do over the course of next year. Hmmm. I guess that's all I feel like saying about that. Hmmm. Sometimes I'm difficult to carry on a conversation with. I feel like I'm pulling teeth here. I hope I don't look bored and offend myself.

Should I paint my toenails? Pro: They would like nicer. Con: I'm in a hotel room with no fingernail polish remover. Pro argument: You can clean them and paint over the existing polish. Con argument: Don't be stupid.

Not sure that I've answered my own question. I'll just stop thinking about it for a while again.

So.... how's work? Things are pretty crazy at my job. Plenty busy, we are. Very good in this economy.

I hear a very weird noise and I can't tell where it's coming from. Sounds like from the room below me, but that can't be right. I don't recall ever hearing noises from the room below me before.

Well, I've really enjoyed this but I have some work to do and I had better do it before it gets too late. Plus I'm still debating whether or not I should head to the fitness room. Maybe I'll wait until the morning. Over and out!

"Have you been writing on your blog lately?" my mother asked, her inquiry making it obvious that she has not been visiting it.

In light of this, I considered fabricating a rich and colorful story in which I have been posting daily, and in which my postings have generated the interest of secret society that has contacted me and sworn me to perform a very dangerous mission. I cannot, of course, reveal the nature of that mission and - sadly - they insisted that I remove the VERY interesting post that had caught their notice in the first place. I am not - in my colorful alter-world - at liberty to discuss the topic further, but I DO regret that my mother was not keeping up with my blogging.

"No." I replied. A pause. "I should really get back into that habit."

Now I am distracted by two thoughts. 1 - I have - since that time (mere weeks ago...things change quickly in my world) given up the concept of "should." There is - I tell myself - no "should" - at least not in relation to my behaviors. There is "I choose to" and "I choose not to." That's it. If I do not choose to blog, I don't blog. If I choose to blog, I blog. I am full of mini-altered-life-perspective endeavors like this, and I am curious to see how this one will play out. 2 - How long does it take to form a habit? If I do this two nights in a row, can I say that I'm "in the habit?" What's the technical difference between an "old habit" and a "new habit?"

While I would very much like to explore these distracting questions further, I can't - for two reasons. 1 - I have noticed how late it is growing and realizing that I will not at all enjoy getting up for work in the morning, and 2 - my right ear is feeling quite funny. It's sort of fluttery, but not exactly plugged, and I think I'm going to need to take some time to ponder what sort of health crisis might be headed my way. I'll definitely need to think on it a bit before bed, so I'll have to stop writing.

I'm still going to count this as the beginning of a habit.