If you couldn’t tell from the awful blog post I published yesterday, I have writer’s block. (If you can even call what I do writing.) Being sick for three weeks, and not getting out of the house except for work, probably has everything to do with it. Also, every time I sit down to blog I feel ridiculous, because blogging is ridiculous. (An example of this was me wanting to share with everyone that I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner tonight because all of my pots are dirty—something that can be summed up in one sentence that nobody wants to read. If I did dishes more often I wouldn’t have this problem.)

Long before I became a crazy cat blogger, I used to care about blogging. It was fun, but now it kind of feels like an obligation. Particularly now that my “post-holiday-tree-cleaning” traffic has subsided. (For those of you who still have no idea what I’m talking about, Google pretty much anything related to cleaning pine needles out of carpet and you’ll get the entry I wrote about it. Basically, to get blog traffic you need to write about the important issues, like unclogging vacuums. I probably shouldn’t tell people that though, because if somebody else writes about it I won’t be at the top of the first page any longer. I need to find a new issue now—the secret to my success is out.)

I’ll probably be fine next week, once this cough has finally subsided.

P.S. The last time I felt like this I deleted everything, and then in the course of a week started over again. That won’t happen this time. I kind of regretted it.