I missed a day. Sorry. I didn't really know how long the "a post every weekday" thing was likely to last, but I guess now I do. Not very long. But you'll note that I'm back already. See? Getting back on the proverbial horse right away (an approach, it bears mentioning, that I never took with actual horses), proving definitively that though the similarities between my relationship with this blog and my relationship with the gym are legion, I'm better at this by a slight margin. Mostly because I can do this while sitting down, expending very little physical force, and not having to change into any special clothes. Mind you, the email I got from the gym yesterday said that 30 minutes a day of exercise, five times a week would dramatically diminish my "risk of mortality."* It said nothing whatever about blogging.
*This continues to amuse me. No matter how much you exercise, you're still going to die. Sorry about that. There is no such thing as eliminating your risk of mortality. I think they might want to go for "increase your longevity," but then I'm just a writer, so what would I know? I'm sure the exercisers have this well in hand, what with all that extra oxygenated blood flowing freely to their brains and all.
Speaking of the exercise I'm not doing and the mortality I'm recklessly courting by, interestingly enough, doing nothing, I am watching way too much TV. It's depressing, actually. I need to develop an interest in cooking or crafting or something. Or somehow acquire more friends. Or perhaps just different friends? I continue to try to solve the combined boredom/loneliness problem by inserting a boyfriend into the landscape, but the Men of the Internet continue to ignore me en masse, so something else needs to happen. Horticulture? Canning? Embroidery?
I believe this is the moment that most women turn to cats, but, as you no doubt know, I could not detest cats any more if I tried.