Over the past zillion years that I feel like I've been blogging, I've been through plenty of ups and downs, ons and offs with the frequency of posts and what I have to say. The danger in blogging, of course, is that it's something like a journal, and when you put things out there for people to stumble upon and read, your most authentic self if revealed to (sometimes) complete strangers. Their comments then either lift you or cut you. Even if you try not to take things to heart, it's impossible.
So . . . . to blog with a risk?
So . . . to journal with no risk?
I'm not in love with journaling . . . even in the digital way. It doesn't feel as right to me. Plus, I don't edit myself well, so things seem down and bad ALL the time. I fail to write about good things, cute things, or things I am proud of.
So, a'bloggin' I will go . . .
I've taken a significant amount of time off of the written bloggable day to day to do, well, stuff. Work. Kids. Volleyball. Gymnastics. Watch kids grow. Raise some chickens. Read some books. And work. Did I mention work? I've been working like a dog. It feels non-stop. I'm overworked and underpaid, but I've fallen into a rhythm. I used to ramble out updates about family and kids and work and, and, and, and .. . . not so much anymore. I used to keep a list of books I had read and maintain a line a day journaling thing. Ya, not so much anymore. But, as of today . . . . I'm back.
Yep, I'm back.