It’s been a while since I blogged anything that wasn’t TV or movie related. Yes, I watch a lot of TV and movies, but I also have a life and job outside of that. Both of which have been all-consuming over the past several months.
To be honest, I truly miss just typing out a blog entry for the hell of writing a blog entry. I have nothing to say, really, and yet, so much has been happening that I’m finding it hard to focus. Of course, what else is new.
So, dear diary, I’m here to get you and I reacquainted once again. Your analogue cousins, my bullet journal and passion planners, have been feeling all the love lately, but you’ve been sitting here, loyal as ever, waiting for me to type something into you. My fingers have longed for it too. I do so love the sound of fingers on a keyboard. The steady clickety-clack of the big-ol’ buttons that make other people in the room think I’m either working really, really hard, or typing a really, really angry letter to someone or some company somewhere.
Little do they know I’m typing a love letter to myself, for that is what you are. My blog, my writing, my ability to write and type is my love and my passion.
Sometimes I forget that. Sometimes (most times) life gets in the way of that. But you wait for me, dear diary, no matter how long it takes me to get back to you.
Thank you, dear diary, for loving me so. And thank you dear loud keyboard, for making it look and sound like I’m working really hard through my luck break, when really I’m loving myself just a little bit today, by spending time with you.