My life, am I right?
My life, am I right?
I’m starting to sound like a broken record, or a corrupt file for you youngsters, but I find myself —yet again—playing shit show catchup.
I’ve never been a great writer, but enjoy writing; thus, the continued publication of this blog. Sorry?
However, in the past couple of months, my posts have become more subpar than usual. One of the major factors has been the appearance of Lola (the dog) in my life. I love her, but she’s a puppy and puppies need near constant attention lest ye have your living room shat upon and chewed to bits. Every week she gets a little better, but finding moments of peace to sit down and write can be difficult when home alone.
It’s been so long since I’ve had time to post anything here, I think I forgot how to write.
After a fun time in the woods on my mountain bike Sunday morning, I was hoping for more of that today. Sadly, a Memorial Day spent mulching and planting, and Tuesday morning rains and house duties had me settling for a quick hike around the Bundy Hill Preserve.
There have been no rides since the last ride. That’s not all that surprising these days.
I recognize the words I throw up from the rotting nether regions of my head and onto these digital pages are vital to everyone’s day. I totally get that and apologize for the ongoing gaps between posts.
After I hit publish on my last post, I was anxious to get outside to ride again. Sadly, after I looked at everything that needed to be done around the house—and elsewhere—before we went to pick up our new bulldog puppy late Friday afternoon, I reconsidered and slipped into a world void of riding and littered with chew toys and puppy prep.
You wouldn’t know it by my lack of posts, or my ever-expanding waistline, but I think I might FINALLY be back to being 100% physically, and 69% (NICE!) mentally, which IS pretty much 100% for me.
Despite the “woe is me” title of this post, things are pretty darn, not badish.
When I say “it’s over,” I am of course referring to the holiday season. Finished; done; caput. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, until you force yourself upon us like a horned up, drunk, conservative Supreme Court judge a year from now!!