one less person to kiss.

I wrote about three sentences, and then let my finger press down gently while my eyes watched a blinking cursor erase whatever it was I thought was worth thinking about. It wasn't. Or, perhaps more accurately, it certainly wasn't worth writing about. It's 1030 and I haven't been sleeping much lately. I took a nap earlier but I'm still pretty tired. I guess this is it.

I remember once I blogged every day, years ago. Afterwards I felt relieved, like I'd outsourced my entire anything to the internet and to hell with it, let the 1's and 0's carry the burden of my problems. These days. Lost appeal perhaps.

But really, more likely, I am just out of practice.

Motivation. No laziness. a something something something.