I realized on Thursday night that I didn’t have a blog written for Friday, which left me with 3 options: I could write a pathetic post about how I was too busy to write a post (but I’ve done this with alarming frequency lately and I’m getting tired of it, I’m sure you are too); I could post a LOL dog, as threatened (but if you wanted to see those, you would already subscribe to that blog) or I could write nothing at all.
The nothing at all was a particular problem. For 2 years today, I have come here, and I have written stuff. Almost every day. Usually a quote on Saturday and random stuff on Mondays, but I’ve written, daily. Very rarely twice a day. 761 posts in total.
So, there I was, standing in my bathroom, and I realized that if I didn’t write a post, 150 or so people were going to come by and they were going to look at my blog and realize that I didn’t post. Or, they would be disappointed that I wrote a crappy post. Anyway I cut it, people were going to turn up, and they were expecting something and as things stood, I had nothing. So I put down my toothbrush, put on my bathrobe, crossed the hall to my office and wrote a post.
I’m always a bit flattered and surprised when people tell me that I’m brave, smart, wise or heroic. Don’t get me wrong, I’m human and I like hearing it, but truthfully, I’m not really any of those things. I’m me. Just me. I’m not particularly funny or smart or wise. I’m a good writer, I use good English and break my writing down into paragraphs. I mostly use correct punctuation. I’m good at painting pictures with my words, and I’m profoundly gratified that so many of you find weight in what I say. I think about my blog, about all of you, often. I try to write about interesting things, and I try not to get into a writing pattern. I write blogs in my head now, I think about things, I see things, I experience things and I decide that I need to write about them.
And that’s exactly what it is now, a need. In 2 years I’ve seen bloggers come and go. Sometimes they move on, sometimes I do. I’ve made friends and I’ve made a few enemies. More friends than enemies, and that’s a blessing. I write about things, and sometimes, often times, I’m surprised by what people get out of it. I’m surprised at what is funny, or that something I wrote unintentionally gives someone comfort. Sometimes I write hard stuff, and no one notices, because it’s only hard for me. More often I write about life, its funny parts, its good parts, its sad parts, and I think we find something shared in the commonality of life. I read your comments, and to misquote Stuart Mclean, I think “If I would have known that this would bring your comfort or a smile, I would have written about it before now, I would have written it more carefully, I would have written it better.”
Which leaves me with this – just a thank you. For being on the other side of the screen, for your hands on your keyboard, typing comments in response to me, to my thoughts, on this side of the screen, on this keyboard.
It means a lot, and I wanted you to know that.