I wish I had something great to write, dear Readers.
I write so many posts in my head, mostly while I'm driving. (At least, I'm not texting, right?)
Somehow, real life and a real job writing (even if it is kind of a writers' sweatshop) seems to edge out this place where writing is free and tamed only by my own self copy editing and your (mostly) kind comments.
Real life--lacrosse games for one, drama practice for another, and "could you put some money in my account?" for the other one--seems to take up a good bit of non-working time. And, I decided to read more.
And, I cleaned out our closet--organized it, actually.
And, the not writing is not working.