I've done a lot of blog reading over the past few days, and as you can see, haven't done a lick of writing. I get caught up in the circle of thinking about all the stuff I could write about - a flu epidemic closing the school, the yearly visit from my longest childhood friend, updates on the neighborhood drama with the evil spawn child - but it all seems so "ho hum" and "zzzzzzz" compared to the writings of my personal blogging favorites. So, I sit here feeling guilty that I haven't written anything in almost a week.
Just look at some of the stuff people are writing about this week.
Sizzle and Stacie and Karl spent some time in the land of the blues this week. It kills me when I see such awesome people struggling and there's nothing I can do to help. We all have our own demons to fight, and sometimes it seems they're winning the game. I know because I fight with mine on a daily basis. Sometimes I just want to throw in the towel, let them all win. Then I get pissed and say "Eff you!! This is MY life and I'm not gonna let you get in the way!" But I never write about it. Even during times of struggle these people write. They write about what they're going through. What they'd like to change. What they're doing (or not doing) about moving forward. Why is that so difficult for me?
Then there's Tim and Kyra writing about parenting - what it means to be a parent, and how some parents seem to just not give a damn. I could write volumes on these subjects, talking about my own messed up experiences of being a single parent and trying to do everything right. I could go on and on about kids in the neighborhood, kids we encounter at stores and restaurants, and kids at school who's parents have seemingly taken a hiatus from parenting, allowing these kids to rule the roost. And sometimes I do write about these things, but they always seem to be rants and raves and bitches and whines rather than anything meaningful.
And Hilly is always diving deep into her psyche in one way or other, sometimes hitting issues head on, other times circling the wagons of generalities. Either way she writes what she wants, how she wants, and says what's on her mind in a deep, yet entertaining way. My psyche is in constant need of a deep cleaning (much like my house), but I don't go there.
Sometimes I think I have something to say, something beyond the mish mash of streaming thoughts that lead nowhere. So I write. Then I delete. And on rare occassions I consider pulling the plug, so to speak. But today I leave my whirling thoughts and appreciation for my fellow bloggers. Writers really.