Maybe I am over blogging. Sure, it's a worn out subject, but I've noticed many of my favorite writers have stopped updating their blogs or do so occasionally. I used to think - back when I posted daily; I was bubbling over with ideas - how ludicrous and sad it was, this giving up or in or whatever had crossed my mind at the time.
I could write about the copious amounts of rum I drank to unclench my aching jaw after watching my friend sign divorce papers or couple skating with my husband last weekend, my heart full of gratitude, but when words come to mind these days, I spill them in short spurts on facebook; I let them brew, fiction fermenting.
Sure, I'll still be here from time to time. I'll still stop by your place sometimes.
But I'm letting myself off the hook, the guilt I feel when days, weeks pass and my blog collects dust.
It feels good.