I am NOT having Wrist to Forehead Sunday, as I threatened to in the final paragraph of yesterday’s post. My wrist is nowhere NEAR my forehead (something I’ve noticed about myself: I like to intersperse my writings with all caps for emphasis). I am in a relatively cheerful mood, considering, among other problems, that I have no idea of what to write a blog post about.
Then again, how many posts are like this? Is it getting old yet? Who cares if it is? I’m old too! So there!
OK, I’m being silly, because I like to be silly. I had a good, long run this morning. Over an hour. I was actually psyched to write a Running Commentary about it. Then I sat down at the keyboard (still this morning) and couldn’t do it. Why not? I don’t know. It happens sometimes. Sometimes you can say to yourself, “Oh, just write that post,” and do it. Sometimes not so much.
I had a marvelous time last night, hearing a band at a local spot. I had a fun time this afternoon, attending an event at an area historical attraction. I intend to write blog posts about both subjects. But I want to sit at my notebook and ponder, write, edit and write some more. You know, make a good job of it.
That, I suppose, is dangerous. Now people may be Expecting something of me. Perhaps they already do. Well, I can’t help it if they are doomed to disappointment. I can only write what I can write. Let’s see what I can write tomorrow. I do hope somebody will tune in.