This isn’t my first time

This isn’t my first time blogging. I’ve tried this many times before and it normally doesn’t work out for a number of reasons. Mostly I get busy and I forget that I have a blog. This happens to me with journals as well. I’m just not good at commitment … that’s something my husband probably would have liked to know [read that as a joke … because it is one]. This is my way of apologizing in advance for the content, or lack there of, that will grace these pages in the future.

I collect journals. This is something I’ve mentioned in other blogs and to the majority of people I consider friends (a tiny clue to my identity). I like journals. I like the crispness of the paper. The precise lines on the pages. The crinkling noise the spine makes when I open to a middle page. I like the idea of journaling – putting my thoughts on a page to later be picked up and read by great great grand children when I’m long dead – sounds like something from a movie or the makings of a good book. But when I go to write those thoughts, I feel like what I have to say isn’t good enough to soil the pages. So they sit empty in a box somewhere.

The internet is an amazing place. Blogging feels less poetic than journaling … I can make mistakes and just hit the delete button … or delete the entire blog if I feel like it. Also, a little confession, my handwriting is atrocious (they say that’s a mark of a genius – HA!) and I type faster than I write, so typing is the easier medium for me anyway. That said, with the amount of smut that is all over the internet, my thoughts suddenly feel like they may be worth putting to paper … digital paper anyway.

I have no delusions of grandeur here. I am well aware that my husband may be the only person I know to ever read this blog and I am more than ok with this. His opinion is the only one that matters in this arena anyway. He says most blogs fall into 2 categories; those written by people because they want readers, and those written by people because they have something to say and they are passionate about it, readers be damned [that last part is me]. I am clearly writing in the later category.

I have little hope for this blog, only that it will last longer than the others and I intentionally take time to write in it. I don’t hope that my readers enjoy it … that’s a given. I don’t hope that it helps my readers in some way … that’s a happy outcome however. I’m not writing this blog for readers, I’m writing this blog for me. I unapologetically don’t care what you think.

This is my life …

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