A wise person said to me the other day, “Have you thought about blogging again?” And, admittedly, I explained that blogging these days is more like another task on my list of things to do – Hopkins work, portfolio work, lesson planning, graduation planning (one for myself and one for my students), trip planning, moving planning, and oh yea, blogging. Forget laundry, cleaning or eating. My days these days leave me in a daze. Somewhere, sometime, somehow along the way I have forgotten to (and perhaps forgotten how to) write – the sole activity that derives me pleasure.
Like the pit in your stomach you get when you realize you have a long, overdue catch-up phone call with a friend, the daunting task to reenter the “blog-o-sphere” left me uneasy and uncertain. Too busy, too preoccupied, too nervous and far too far removed - the excuses I once found solace in about my infrequent writing began to seem like lame responses, even to me. And so I found myself, on the ere of returning to school for the final eight-week push after a well-deserved spring break, in that age-old, comfortable position in front of my neon-pink laptop. The keys feel like a carnival, the oil from my skin seeps deeper into my white casing, and I feel like I am home.
Rather selfishly, I miss telling my story and documenting my life. Instead of playing catch-up, I’d rather play catch-on, where from here on out I fill you in on what you deserve to know. My adventures through my 20-somethings, like wine, are only getting better with age. Enjoy the ride… I can already tell I am.
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