I love blogging, I really do. I even have a lot to say (no, no new kids, it’s not that exciting news grrrr) and a lot has happened recently, especially in regards to our new house, but I just haven’t been able to post. I’m even 5 books behind again on my book-whore reviews site. I absolutely cannot pinpoint where my mind is (almost typed ‘minds are’, Freudian slip maybe?).
I’m at my computer waiting for my mom to Skype me from Mexico and I have many blog topics on my mind, but can I actually type them out? It doesn’t seem so.
I suppose it’s a slight bit of depression if I’m honest enough. My memory has been wonky, I’ve been really quite tired and have no energy whatsoever. I’ve been even thinking of vitamins to help boost …. well something in me to get me going. I’ve even switched back to some caffeine in my coffee in the mornings (but only half as my heart cannot tolerate more than that very much).
It’s hard for me to admit that a funk is holding me back from doing things I love. I become a robot, an alien robot if you will, and I haven’t the power to kick it into over drive to become human again.
This site has become more than a means of vomiting my spew everywhere, it has become a link to my far-away family, it has allowed me reprieve I don’t have in real life and also a means of keeping me writing, even if it is blithering idiocy.
I won’t quit, but I imagine the few readers I have will have to bear with me while I grasp for some iota of a muse.