…Is nothing like writer’s block when you can’t think of what to write.
I have plenty of blog ‘posts’ up my sleeve.
There’s ‘The Incredible Lego Technics Boy’ which (in my head) is a wonderful tale of ‘triumph over adversity’ or ‘Don’t underestimate a disabled boy because he doesn’t talk….’
Then there’s a whole host of product reviews stacking up. Things ‘I’ve eaten’ vs ‘diets I should try’ (you can see how those things work in opposition).
The problem is that a blog is either a labour of love or just another chore. It’s the frivolous bit of navel gazing you do at the end of the day…or something to fill up a vacuum of time.
But I really have no gaps left in the day. Golly, I’d kill for a self-indulgent pause for creative writing!
Blogging doesn’t actually put food in the mouths of babes, so it’s now relegated to the very bottom of the long list of things that should be prorities. It has to wait it’s turn ’til after the after the dog and kids are fed, the washing-ups been done and laundry dumped in some heap in the hope somebody else will put it away. It even gets posted down below my ‘conjugal’ duties (the husband is a terrible nag) and ultimately just a shade above housework and paperwork.
I’m now in a ‘blogger’s dilemma’. I’ve created a task that wasn’t there before…
…I should be able to leave it alone, if only I wasn’t already hooked into all the possibilities and pretensions that having a blog seems to suggest: It might open doors? People might be interested in what I have to say? I could become a woman’s voice of influence and other such poppy-cock and tripe….
However, the wonderful thing is that having a blog has gained me work. I didn’t plan it as an on-line CV, and yet that’s what it’s become. And paid work, let’s face it, is not something to be sniffed at.
So, in a nutshell, I’m finding it very hard to find the time to blog anymore and I’m wondering for how much longer I can pretend to keep it going.
But, prod me if you are dying to hear the story of ‘Lego Technics boy’ or ‘Bad girls, too much wine and telling the dog (with my head in her basket) that I really, really love her…’
Or I might never get round to posting again.