I am now starting to understand how much work doing this every day is. I can barely write anything, and I haven't been bothering to upload anything in days. I'll just do it in a batch when I get some energy and let you all catch up.
Catch up. Catch up on what? I thought about that a lot today. I was up late, unable to sleep last night, and watched one of the Olympic hockey games. I thought that I've been a little too regular about this, to the point that writing this damn thing has taken over my evenings, to the point where I feel guilty about not writing it.
I also realized that it's my life, and I'd rather live it than write about it so much that I have no time left to do anything worth writing about. It's convenient to think these thoughts now, where I'm lying here with a roll of paper towels next to the bed (I ran out of tissues and am not going out to get more), I am not doing particularly notable, but it's kind of pleasant to just think about things and not feel obligated to rethink them into written form.
Does that mean I'll stop writing this? No. I like to do it, and I like to read back through the things I've written. But I will no longer let it take over. I do not have an audience, I have a life, and the audience -- you -- is secondary. So, all of you, read what's here, take away what you will from what I write here, but realize that I don't owe you the story of my life, any more than you owe me your attention. I'll put things here, and you can read them or not. Or, I'll skip putting things here, and you can read the diaries of other people on the internet. There are many.
It's my life, and I think I'm remembering that I write this for me.