Suffice it to say that the last three weeks blurs quickly in my head. I remember getting paid, working a lot, going to the gym, not going to the gym (and being upset about it), eating food, and driving around a lot of places. I remember these things more because of routine than from whatever I was experiencing at the time. I tend to use this blog to kind of keep some mental mileposts for myself. The best part is reading some of my posts and actually remembering something. I know it sounds sad, but ignorance is bliss and I sometimes approach nirvana.

Sometimes I’ll be some place or with someone and realize there’s a story here. Nothing deeply poignant or prize-winning, but a nice tiny little slice of my life. Carefully rolled in words and baked inside my brain, it would make a toasty little piece of posting. But the yeast of the idea seems to spoil quickly and I’m left with unleavened bitching about work or something else. Sorry for the lame bread references, but blogging is a lot like making bread at home.

It’s equal parts science and art. You have to know your material and how to work with it. Work the it too much and you’re left with a hard, crusty thing that no one wants. Work it too little and it’s weak, flaccid and boring; it becomes the cyber equivalent of Wonder Bread. It takes a sharp eye to know when to keep working it and when to leave it be. Some people can just spill a post out of their head with little or no revisions and it’s gold (I’m looking in your direction, Mick). Others, like me, labor over each sentence, punctuation mark, phrase and point of view. Of the dozens of posts I've put up here, there are three times as many posts that never made it because they died out halfway through revisions.

Is this an apology? Heck no. I’ve done that before and I’m getting tired of making apologies that I don’t seem to keep. (Plus it keeps you folks guessing on when I’ll post again.)

Is this a copout? I really would love to live the blogger’s dream and post every day, bind the posts into a book, roll it into a movie deal and make a mint on it. But in reality, I know this keeps about seven people informed that I’m moderately satisfied with my job and am pining for a chopper-inspired bicycle built for 8-year olds. No wild political rants, no deep thoughts with equally deep comments to follow, just a guy living in the Armpit of America and taking the hits as they come.

In short, this is a post. Take it for what it is.