Yesterday I blogged for the first time in a while. Fall comes around, my son goes back to school, and suddenly it’s just me and the dog all day. I establish a routine to guard against idleness, a tendency of mine.
I get productive. I’m wonderfully predictable. And whenever I reestablish my routine, I tell myself, “You ought to blog every day, because you enjoy blogging, and you have music and pictures and anecdotes to share.” At very least, it grounds me a little, like a diary, and lets me pretend I’m connected with the outside world instead of being this guy who stays home with the dog, writing novels that won’t be finished for a while.
But due to my predictable routine, the morning is often busy. I don’t have time to look for interesting photos or songs, and the anecdotal stuff usually happens later in the day, at which point I’m too tired to blog about it. But I’m good at tricking myself, so now I’ve tricked myself into writing about yesterday, when something interesting happened. This way I’m just remembering things instead of generated Freshly Minted Blog Posts.
For a while then, all my new posts will start with “Yesterday…”
Along with blogging again, I compared fitness notes with a friend — we’re keeping each other in line; he had a really impressive line graph — and watched Breaking Bad, which felt like a necessary breath after last week’s episode and still managed to bust me up.