Do you know what it's like to have nothing worthwhile to say?
OK, I'll be the first to raise my hand and admit that 94 percent of what I have to say right here on this very blog is not worthwhile, but, Hey! Is that you? You're READING it.
But today it hit me. My God, I have nothing to say. Nothing. And here I am, writing nothing about having nothing to say, which can only tell me one of two things: A) I need a life that is B) more exciting than this.
So, regretfully so, I've decided to call it a day, and end the blog.
I'M JUST KIDDING, SILLY! Man, I'm so sure.
I'm blogging right now to postpone my need to go for a run. Four miles. On a treadmill. I'd rather sit on the bathroom floor and breathe in the stench of litterbox for a half-hour, please. I just don't want to right now.
All that business requires changing my clothes, tying my shoes, finding a water bottle, driving to the gym, where it's bright, and there are people, and when I want to crawl into the corner and sleep, I can't, because they'll look at me funny.
And right now? There are small children outside my apartment window, and I'm pretty positive they are reenacting the Civil War, and they are screaming and running, and I wouldn't be the least bit shocked if that is a firearm hidden under that boy's coat.
Furthermore, is it summer yet? Because this whole idea of snow and 34 degrees and gray skies and bad gas mileage is about as exciting as watching my eyebrows grow.
On that note, I'm going to the gym. And this is my promise to not blog again until I have something the least bit entertaining to say.
(And perhaps you haven't been paying attention, but, that is a rare occasion).