It is with much fear and trembling I lightly tread towards this post. No, I don't have bad news -- at least I don't think I do. Not yet anyway. Instead, the reason for my trepidation and uncertainty is my blogger's block has lifted but I have nothing to write about.
Nothing. How tragic.
I could blog about my kids. But they're sleeping. (and I'm serious this time.)
I could blog about my husband. You know, that Toby guy. But he's boringly typing on his computer right now doing nothing interesting. (wow, that's a first.)
I could blog about Britt. But she's just reading. (plus, she's usually so put together and collected, blogging about her would be unthinkable because she's so... well, never mind.)
I could blog about the house showing tonight but there's nothing to blog about. (I was gone when it happened.)
Actually, about the house showing, I could blog about that. We had a first tonight: the realtor locked both the front door and back door so we were locked out. Thankfully, I had preserved a set of keys in the van just a day or so ago and we were able to harvest them and use them appropriately. There's nothing like getting locked out of your own house by a stranger.
Not such an exciting thing to blog about after all. Let's see... Thinking harder.
I could blog about my birthday coming up. I know, how boring. But, now that I'm older and matured and well settled in life (yeah right -- what's the forsale sign doing in my front yard then?) I don't count the days to my birthday anymore. Instead, since Fourth of July is still my favorite holiday, I count the days to that, think for a second what day my birthday is, subtract the date of my birthday from July fourth and walla, my birthday is in 12 days. (In case you didn't figure that out and really think you need to know, my birthday is July 2.)
Unfortunately, a lot of my dear friends and even my own dear husband think that it's July 3rd.
To prove my point, I just asked Toby what day my birthday is...
"You mean, Monday, Tuesday, Wednes....?" He asked.
"No, I mean what date." I reply.
"HAWHNEEE," he says with a note of concern that depicts he may be fearful that I may be uncertain that he knows his own wife's birthday.
"I just wanna see if you remember the date because you used to get it wrong." I explain.
"Do you know when my birthday is?" He counteracts, as if to prove that I'm the one that needs to be refreshed on birthdays.
"Yes," I reply. "June 5th."
"Of course I know when your birthday is," he says, acting as if he's stealing time.
"You do?" I ask. "When?"
We go through another speel of I'm-gonna-act-like-I-know-just-to-make-her-think-I-remember-such-dates and I continue the barrage of questioning.
He smiles, scratches his head, gets a twinkle in his eye and says, "July second."
Whew. At least he does remember.
Well, having blogged a reasonable sized blog considering I have nothing to blog about on my blog tonight, I have to wonder what I would've blogged about had I had something to blog about when I first started this blog.
Okay, maybe the fact that I don't have the knack tonight for a blog, it's a good indication that perhaps I should stay silent and willingly surrender to writer's block.
But yet I don't want to leave my chair just yet. To sit here in this office I at least can be near to Toby though he, my husband, yet sits on his computer chair endlessly typing away giving me no companionship or company and especially so if I leave my own fair chair and move away from his presence to the bed that is calling me.
Amazing. By the time the punctuated period ended the above sentence, I was being beckoned to the comforts of a relaxing bed. And not just the bed was calling this time, but my own dear husband.
With that, I'll close this aimless blog and leave the reader with an excuse to leave my blog.
(and with that she clicks 'publish post' and stumbles to bed.)