Hiatus? More like vanished!

Insert excuses here.

I left a little extra space there because my excuses are vast but honestly, my lack of blogging all boils down to a choice. How’s it go again? “I don’t have time” is just another way of saying it’s not a priority. Has a lot happened in the last several months? You bet. Could I have made time to do this anyway? Yep. But if anyone out there cares about my excuses, they involve resigning from a good job in a bad economy, getting married (actually, planning a Halloween party AND a wedding on the same day!), spreading my dad’s ashes, painting by number, playing online bingo obsessively, and taking naps. That pretty much sums up August to February.

I’m not gonna lie, having a wedding on Halloween was a stroke of genius.

What is most frustrating is that I will have to relearn how to use this site now. How do I post photos again? What do I tag and what’s the difference between a tag and a category? Is my front page appealing enough (not really)? Should I care about any of that or just write? I’m gonna answer my own question by posting this short excuse-filled diatribe. I just looked up diatribe and either I used it incorrectly there or I am really really mad at myself. I’ll let you decide.

But friends, I have things percolating…in my heart and on my mind and I am compelled to share. I have been doing a Sugar Fast with my lady friends (why does that sound akin to lady parts? my brain is really really odd. you’re welcome John L.) and I guess some of the fog has been lifted from the things that were covered over by booze, bread, and sour patch kids. I woke up this morning and decided it was time to stop keeping all those thoughts and feels in my head and start sharing them with the world. Horrifying! Eek. Ack. But why?!?!? Why do I want to put myself out there? Because, dear readers (all two of you), we only get this one life and we can either use it or ignore our gifts and sit stagnant in our office chairs. And even though this particular Ikea office chair is rather comfy, I want to make these little butt indents on the cushion mean something – even if it means something only to me.

So I’m back…and I’m feeling rather noisy so be prepared.

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