deal-e-o

Here’s the deal. I write because I like to write. While I love the idea of blogging, having followers, and all the fame and *glory* that comes with it, I struggle to keep up with what I think are interesting things to write/talk about. Really, I shouldn't care, but much like everything else in my life-I do. To be honest, I guess you could say I am a blog snob. I don’t follow a ton of blogs, but that probably has more to do with my critical eye for them than it does with my time or ability to read them. If I don’t like a background, I opt out. Trying-too-hard title? Opt out. Inconsistent updates? Opt out. Someone who talks about their inconsistent blogging? Opt out. You name it and I can find a reason to opt out of any blog.

Judge if you’d like, but sadly I also hold myself to that standard. I want a unique, aesthetically pleasing background and font, a catchy but not annoying title, consistent updates, and I absolutely hate acknowledging that I’ve been behind in my blogging or ability to do so well. What can I say? I’m a perfectionist. The unfortunate thing is I then tend to opt out of the blogging world completely. Can’t do it well? Screw it. Can’t do it enough? Screw it. No awesomely-interesting-earth-shattering-journalism-making topic to write about? Screw it.

But that is also what I love about a good blog. I recently came across the blog of someone I’ve been following on Twitter for a few weeks now. I found it just two days ago, and already I’ve made a good dent in the 2011 posts, dabbled in the 2010’s, and gone “way” back to the 2008 posts when the blog began. The writing isn’t stellar. The pictures are random and self-taken. The colors are simple, and so are the topics. But I love that. I love that I feel like I shouldn’t be reading the blog-like I just came across my sister, or best friend’s diary and simply can’t put it down. The blog talks about daily life, work, food, exercise, relationships, things that are funny, things that are not, and everything in between. The irony is I imagine it’s pretty darn close to what my own blog would look like if I simply wrote. If I blogged what I journal, what I think, the life I live and the one I wish I lived, I’m pretty sure that’s what it would look like.

I blame time. I blame my inability to conjure an interesting enough topic that will last more than a sentence or two. I blame my lack of followers who really care. I blame...everything. I’ve been on a major hiatus. Call it my sabbatical from writing for more than just me.

The good news? Every good sabbatical comes to an end.

Like the blooger I mentioned above, I too, have a day-to-day job. One that can be completely boring, hilarious, or consuming, but [almost] always adventurous. Work will happen because I’m expected to show up and I don’t like letting people down (hence my previously noted sabbatical). But I’m also anxious to do the things I love to do, regardless of what others think, or what I think they might be thinking. I’m anxious to live life more fully. No excuses, no shit (bull).

Oh, ya. Sorry, I’m not completely opposed to cussing.

As I finish this post, I must admit one other irony. I write this not in the blogesphere but in a word processing program. Because I didn’t intend to blog it. Because I didn’t think it would be worth posting. Because I didn’t want to commit myself back to the blogging world. Because I’m a perfectionist. And didn’t think anyone would find value in this. But I wanted to write.

Cheers! to writing, not simply to blogging.