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During our Thursday morning walk a week or two ago, Ana said, "It's summer! I check your blog every day but you haven't been posting. What's up?"

Yeah. Summer slips by, half over, and I haven't approached my blogs. I've circled them warily, considered where I want them to take me, retreated at the divestiture of cognitive energy. It's mucky in there and I haven't mustered the strength for the necessary mental housekeeping.

At the preschool last year I accepted a new position. I was hopeful then, dashed now. Though I don't feel the need to hash it out here, I do feel the need to acknowledge the struggle and to step away from it, shoulders square under the shreds of my ego.

Maybe that's enough confession to get me going again. I'll keep you posted.


auntie m said…
I miss your blog. Don't check it as often as I used to because there is nothing there. But I would look forward to seeing you post again.
Gnightgirl said…
Funny, it seems that "dashed" is what most of the world can relate to. We are so fearful of putting it out there, and yet, it what so many people respond to...because we've been there and don't have the balls to say so.

Spilling my guts has always been rewarded here, darling, go for it. I read your posts and I think, "she went for it, by God, she went for it." Not her cup of tea? OOOoooo! Stand by, what's on deck?!

I love you.

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wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.

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40 observations on the eve before my 40th birthday

Indulge me! In no particular order:

1. I love making pinatas. I've made a pinata for Jack's birthday for the last five years. The Death Star, a jellyfish from Spongebob, Patrick Star from Spongebob, Plankton from Spongebob, and just this year King Pig from Angry Birds. I've been commissioned by a friend to produce another Angry Birds Pig pinata for her son's birthday. I'm gonna do it.

2. Right now three of my ten fingers hurt when I type. I don't bite my nails (unless one is already broken) but I do pick and pull at my cuticles. I've developed acute paronychia, a bacterial infection, at those three finger tips. The one that hurts the most is my right thumb. Space bar hell. I've done this to myself since childhood. When I'm pulling and nipping at a hangnail, I know it's going to hurt but I go ahead and do it anyway.

3. I consider myself substantial: in body and in mind. I am robust. I have zeal. I just don't have any confidence.

4. My brain stop…