Another manic Monday

Aiiiieee, I hate it when I miss a couple of days on the Web log. Whenever that happens, it just gets worse!

Because all of a sudden nothing seems consequential enough to write about.

I have been full of things to discuss. I have never understood when people who call themselves writers say they have nothing to write about, you know? Writing is like talking. You never run out of stuff to talk about! Well, I never do, anyway. Yak, yak, yak.

However.

Skip a couple of days and suddenly I am embarrassed by the banality of things I want to bring up.

I keep thinking I have to come up with something Important. Otherwise I am afraid people will look at what I write and say, What in the world?

She broke her silence for this??

So I kept thinking of things I wanted to divulge. Such as a new ad for Leonard Pennario I turned up in an old Saturday Review. Or the amazing fact that I was able to nail the 10,000 steps on my pedometer for two days in a row.

Or the lasagna with Swiss chard I made in the Crock Pot, that is another thing. Or cleaning up the house to have my brother and mother and niece and nephew and my friend Larry over for dinner. Or going over to my friend Gary's for a jam session on Saturday night.

What else did I do over the weekend? There was also the Pilates class that almost killed me. And I went to the Clinton-Bailey Market. And I did get work done among all these activities.

All exciting, to me! And ordinarily there would be no problem.

But if you skip a day or two, ah, then it is different.

You get this feeling you must strive for greatness. You must turn out something monumental.

And we all know what happens next.

Nothing!