This is a Seinfeld blog post. It’s nothing but a guy bitching cause he’s got a bad case of the winter blahs, ya feel me?
It has been one unbearably long, bitterly frigid, rotten winter. Not in the sense of the power’s out, the heat’s off, there’s no food in the fridge and I’m freezing to death here in the dark kind of tough. Just in the way when you step foot outside you think, “Damn, will I be glad when all this snow is gone and I can walk in the park without risking breaking my fool neck!”
Maybe it’s because I’m sick of looking out the window as I write and starting at streets, sidewalks and people all covered in a blanket of white flakes. It’s like watching too much porn. At first it’s kind of exciting, then it becomes routine and finally it’s just boring as hell.
So, part of me know this is just cabin fever, the winter of my discontent and weariness over a host of other issues on the job, family, money and health matters that writing is usually a release from, only not so much lately. Nothing feels exciting or fresh. Music, food, books, company, sex, it’s all ho-hum, so what and what’s on TV tonight? If this keeps up I might fall nod off standing up.
Even the old faithful of Washington politics, celebrity stupidity, a high-profile racially motivated killing and weeping over the sad end of the San Francisco 49ers season doesn’t move me to write. Damn, Old Man Winter anyway!
I blame some this on blogging. I’m good at it, but it’s not always agreeing with me.
When I started my blog in 2008 there was no plan I’d still be at it in 2014. The blog was only supposed to be something to mess around with in between freelancing gigs. It never was meant to be the be-all and end-all, but that’s what it is now.
And I’m kind of tired with it. It’s not that I don’t have things to say. It’s that I want to say those things in a different way and maybe in a different place.
I’ve written 907 posts, racked up 632,682 views, got 2,406 comments and deleted an ungodly amount of spam. I’ve been Freshly Pressed three or four times and in a week or two I’ll have 1,000 followers of my blog. Like it matters. Those are just numbers and while numbers never lie, they aren’t the whole truth either.
Blogging is mostly fun, but good blogging is hard work and finding something to say every two or so days that’s good is very hard work.
If I’m not psyched and pumped to get to the keyboard and look at it with the enthusiasm of unclogging a toilet, maybe I’m making what should be casual fun into hard work.
Caring for a blog and feeding it regularly with fresh content is becoming a grind. So maybe I might want to get a dog. If I have to invest in something that requires time, attention and my best effort maybe a four-legged companion that is always glad to see me no matter how full, empty or frazzled my brain is on a given day.
I love dogs, but I haven’t had one since my kids were kids, but the model we got was a little defective and didn’t work out too well. I’m thinking about trying again. The wife isn’t as crazy about the idea, but I don’t think she’ll go to war over the idea.
But she’s not delirious with joy either.
No dis of cat people. I’m a dog man, myself. Always have been. Cats can be playful but it has to be on their schedule.. Dogs? Dogs bring the playful like water from the tap.
In my current winterlude of lethargy and lassitude, I positively crave a little playful.
I want a dog. I think I NEED a dog. Until this miserable winter is over I’m sure not motivated to blog.