As of late I have been a bad, ineffectual blogger - although in my defense I have been super busy with work, and I just turned, gulp, 33 (suck on that Kurt Cobain) and hanging out with my boyfriend/not an official boyfriend. In short, my life has been not to exciting to write about, although I must say it has been fulfilling.
While on the bus today I was thinking about why and how this blog came into existence, and how I seemingly had so much to write about, and why I feel I don't now. On paper, I should have, and do have loads of shit to write about, just not the random, tawdry tales of old. Which, I think, is OK.
In the past I didn't have the interpersonal outlets for communication I feel I do now; not that I have more or less friends or relationships, but I have forsaken some, and grown others stronger than I ever imagined possible. Thus, the need to reach out has lessened. And I fucking love my alone time.
Though I still love meeting new people, and have via my new job - and as I have only a limited capacity for meeting new people/giving a shit about new people, I had to "take a knee"; I'm not joking when I saw I just learned upwards of 30 new's names, not to mention their history. It's a lot to process.
But overall, I am happy, and healthy, and making decent money. These are 3 things that eluded me for the last several months, or year even. Not yet at the "kicking ass and taking names" level, but that's fine. Incrementally...I am improving my situation. I hope it shows.