I accept that this post will not be perfect. It will not be funny and will likely not be intetesting. But it could just be THE post that restarts my writing habit.
What could I write about?
How about that guy Rob that stayed at the Mabees when we lived there, and the manly way I confronted his deceipt. Or how about the list of offenses the exiled chicken has committed, and that in spite of her guilt I can't get the jury to go along with the death sentence. There are all kinds of great things happening with my kids - and of course with my parenting. Did you know we have to wipe the dogs feet for them when they come in from the back yard? But the kids? . . . We keep asking.
Our $500 car is worth zero right now and we're feeling betrayed. Our luck usually goes so much better than that . . . NOT. I'm taking a project management class - actually it's a study group for taking the Project Management Professional certification exam. But I'm dividing my notes into two groups: project management and test taking. I'm actully really good at test taking. That explains how I got through college, but this will be more challenging than most multiple choice tests I took in college. Except Business Law. That stunk. Have I ever confessed/explained how I really got thru college?
How about my wedding story? Wendy wrote down the story of our courtship within a couple of months of our marriage, but I haven't done that yet. I really should. My memories of that time of my life are unfaded. But I don't know what happened ten seconds ago. I think I really do suffer from short-term memory loss or ADD or both. It makes life very interesting, and allows me to think very creatively, and solve problems well. What I'm thinking about at any given moment is not likely to be connected with what is going on around me at all, and not likely to stay on the same topic for more than 15 seconds. Creative opportunities.
I could write about the lessons I've learned in my political experiences over the last six months. The bicycle shed? My new slum-lord retirement plan. MUD. The concrete sidewalk that isn't. The whistle I stole when I was five. (sorry Joe). How about snow caving? Hiking, fishing and other activities I wish I were doing.
I could write forever about my jobs, but it wouldn't be enjoyable for you or me. The task list in my notebook includes pending transactions, an HR profile, iProcuremnet documentation, commitment to change in the PPMC area, testing the database upgrade and a patch, MSDS attachments, a view for Mr Stapleton, MD50 documentation and reimbursements. Told you.
How about working in Japan? I did that for seven months after my mission. Made something like $11K but I don't even know where half of it went. It would have been worse if I hadn't been budgeting. In Okinawa as a missionary, we once walked through a very poor farm village. A kid saw me and ran, screaming, "OKaasan!! Hen na ningen! Hen na ningen!!" (Mom! A weird human!!). This was Miyako island, actually. I was one of two white guys on the island. My companion was Japanese.
If this list isn't proof of a mental disorder, I don't know what is. But, on the other hand, disorder or not, it's fodder for a lot of good blogging!