It's an odd thing, my relationship with this blog. There have been times I've written here consistently and other times, well, not so much. This may be the longest drought so far but I think I say that every time. It's not that I've fallen off the face of the earth or that I have nothing to say. Ask my husband.
I've been toying with the idea of deleting my blog, which is also something I do from time to time. I'm not sure why but it's almost as if I'm angry with it...it's the same feeling a girl gets when she wants to break up with a boy. I completely ignore him. It isn't that I don't care anymore, only that I don't want to care so I feign indifference. I don't know what to do with you anymore, blog, so I'm giving you the cold shoulder.
A blog is self-serving mostly. It's like an open journal. I get tired of hearing myself talk and writing the word "I", which just occurred in this post 16 times. I wonder if I'm being truthful in what I write because I don't want to offend.
And then I remember that I only have 32 followers and that this blog isn't going to change the world, nor does it strive to. Maybe just my little corner of it. The one that shines a light inwardly, exposing the muck, so that I can clean house. The one that likes to string words together like christmas lights.
I've decided that I still love you, blog.
And I don't want to break up.