This One’s a Clunker, You’ve Been Warned

by gillis

I’ve had crazy technical issues  over the course of the past week while I was traveling a bit with family, so I haven’t kept up with my SOLC posts. The first time I realized I wasn’t going to make it, I freaked out a little, got upset. Then I tried to figure out how I could make it work using my phone. My son had twice deleted the contact list off of the phone during the past week, so I could not write a blog post and believe it would “stick.” Finally, I accepted that I wasn’t going to have a perfect, 31 day record for SOLC and I went on a weekend long binge of not posting. It felt something like the Kubler-Ross stages of grief – denial, anger, acceptance – or am I confusing grief with swimsuit season again?

I have to say, I feel okay. I’m a little disappointed in myself for not fulfilling the challenge, but I won’t beat myself up for that just now. I’ve lost the bragging rights to posting for 31 days straight, but I may have spared some accidental readers a few posts that were even worse than this is shaping up to be. You see that? Shaping up to be? This is how I end the sentence? That sort of sloppiness should be grounds for having my virtual red pen revoked.

Right now I’m thinking about you, the one who reads but never leaves a comment because this blog is not your thing. You made a mistake when you went to the “Two Writing Teachers” blog, scrolled the comments,  clicked on the link to this site, started reading, and kept hoping it would get better. It won’t. You’ll have to trust me on that. I have nothing to say. Haven’t had an original thought in my head for days. I’ll try to come up with something for tomorrow, but there’s no guarantee.

I’ve already mined my kids, our dog, and my character flaws for these posts. I’ve written about childhood memories too. I’ve even resorted to the 6 word story — and that happened before the halfway point of the 31 days! I think I’ve run out of material. You’ll know it’s desperate if I start hauling out the poetry again. I’m no poet. Now go on, get outta here, and find something more coherent to read.

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