Shame, shame. How embarrassing. I start a blog, gather some “followers”, and then promptly abandon the entire enterprise. Not going to become a famous writer/actress/talk show host this way. No sir! And so, here I am. Wondering what to entertain you all with. Think, think, think . . .
Ummmmm . . . nope. Not feeling very funny since Christmas. Seriously. Estimate entertaining thoughts are down by at least 60%. 60%! And this gets me back to my thoughts about a person’s blog having a “theme”. My first several blogs were meant to give people a laugh. A chuckle. So what would be the point in writing a big ol’ sob blog?? Who wants to read that?! Ahhhh . . . wait for it . . . here comes the tie in with the title – you might read a blog like that so you could say, “Hmmm . . . maybe it’s not just me.” Oh, that was slick! Real creative genius there. And believe it or not, I came up with that just sitting here in my bed with my heat pad on my feet (little peak for you into my exciting “night life”).
So, maybe you all wouldn’t mind so much if the blog wasn’t always hilarious and gut wrenchingly funny. Maybe you would accept that my lows are as low as my highs are high and can sometimes last an unbearably long time. And maybe . . . despite all that . . . you’d keep reading.
Now. Despite all that, I have mustered up a little something. To say I “mustered it” is probably a little inaccurate. As with all things in my blog, they really do just happen to me. The winter months produce very little bloggable material. I am trapped indoors most of the time and have a bad case of the SAD (Seasonable Affective Disorder). Oh, I am a miserable sucker! Just ask my poor husband. In an effort to improve my mood, I have decided to try a return to exercise. I went back to boot camp last week and am determined to persevere. That tiny blonde stick will not get the better of me! But ohhhhh, how I hate her. Fortunately, there is a fairly obese woman in my class (“FOW” for short), so I just stuck close to her. By the end of the class, I could hardly breathe and all of my remaining energy was devoted to staying conscious. When I checked to see how the FOW was doing, I discovered her face down on her mat, arms and legs sticking out on either side. Really – she looked like she’d been dropped from the top of a building. And the blonde stick didn’t even care! She just kept jumping around yelling, “It’s YOUR workout. I can’t do this for you. YOU have to look yourself in the mirror tomorrow.” I don’t think the FOW is a big fan of the blonde stick. I think the FOW and I might have more in common than I initially thought.
