From time to time, I've thought about how people use blogs to offer unsolicited social commentary or political opinions, or just profound, philosophical thoughts about existence, its meaning, and perhaps the reasons why "daughter" and "laughter" are not pronounced the same way.
Sometimes I consider that approach. And recently while reading John Mayer's blog, I was almost inspired to do it. (He's a pretty decent guy, it seems.)
But the truth is, I'm too farking tired. And my days of philosophizing about the inherent cruelty in existence went by the wayside when I took on a crushing student loan debt that required my attention to be focused on all things capitalist.
There certainly was a time when I was overwhelmed with greater existential questions - mostly in the five years after my dad died (thanks to all who refrained from informing me about what a total buzz kill I must have been). And the ranch gave me the solitude and peace to work on discerning the greater meaning and the priorities I'd like to govern my life. But you know what? That was exhausting too. And in the words of the great and honorable Bono, one has to be careful not to be pickled in one's own juices.
I don't have the time or energy for profound meditations (and who the hell cares what I think, anyway) and I no longer have a need for the dramatic. All I want to do is sleep. And not pickle in my own juices. And laugh at SouthPark.
I wonder if there will be a time when the bills are paid and the meetings are met and the expectations are satisfied, when life's demands are less practical and more ethereal, and I will return to the deep reflections and worldly observations. But for now, if you're reading this, I'm afraid you're stuck with stories of dog bites, cat pee, vacations gone awry and tales of how my poor, poor husband - a newly anointed vice president (yay Beto!) - married beneath him.
As an aside, if you do know why "laughter" and "daughter" are not pronounced the same, please drop me a note. It's killing me.
Sometimes I consider that approach. And recently while reading John Mayer's blog, I was almost inspired to do it. (He's a pretty decent guy, it seems.)
But the truth is, I'm too farking tired. And my days of philosophizing about the inherent cruelty in existence went by the wayside when I took on a crushing student loan debt that required my attention to be focused on all things capitalist.
There certainly was a time when I was overwhelmed with greater existential questions - mostly in the five years after my dad died (thanks to all who refrained from informing me about what a total buzz kill I must have been). And the ranch gave me the solitude and peace to work on discerning the greater meaning and the priorities I'd like to govern my life. But you know what? That was exhausting too. And in the words of the great and honorable Bono, one has to be careful not to be pickled in one's own juices.
I don't have the time or energy for profound meditations (and who the hell cares what I think, anyway) and I no longer have a need for the dramatic. All I want to do is sleep. And not pickle in my own juices. And laugh at SouthPark.
I wonder if there will be a time when the bills are paid and the meetings are met and the expectations are satisfied, when life's demands are less practical and more ethereal, and I will return to the deep reflections and worldly observations. But for now, if you're reading this, I'm afraid you're stuck with stories of dog bites, cat pee, vacations gone awry and tales of how my poor, poor husband - a newly anointed vice president (yay Beto!) - married beneath him.
As an aside, if you do know why "laughter" and "daughter" are not pronounced the same, please drop me a note. It's killing me.