Whenever I actually sit down to blog I go through a thought process:
- Man, I have so much stuff I could complain about…AND THAT’S ALL I EVER DO ON HERE. Maybe I should mix it up.
- I’m sure I must have some small bloggable anecdote from my day. Probably. Maybe. If I could just remember it. There’s a chance it happened.
- Cats are great.
- Aw, screw it. I’m sleepy.
Lately my life, as always, has been consumed by English class (1). However, the last few nights, I’ve been procrastinating by playing my Mother’s -notably bright green- ukelele. In fact, there is currently a corner of my room that consists of a ukelele, hammock, guitar, bookcase, and spinning wheel, due to the way I have my room rearranged. I really quite like this corner of my room. I feel like as far as corners of rooms go, it deserves it’s own special little award, like a little star presented in some sort of ceremony. The ceremonial star-badge is negated by the fact that none of the corners in my room have learned to clean themselves. I’ll just hold the ceremonial stars over their heads (Heads? Corners have heads? Well, I guess they must have heads if they have bodies I’m attaching star shaped badges to.) until my room learns to be a self motivated structure, that takes responsibility for it’s actions, and does it’s own laundry, like a adult room. My room is certainly old enough (As far as rooms in old houses go, it’s an old room in an old house.) to cut out this childish nonsense and pick up a vacuum cleaner in a while.
It’s at this point in the night that I realize my “small bloggable anecdotes” are more like “long crazy deluges that don’t make any sense and personify inanimate objects a lot.” (2)
And on that note, I am in fact tired. (4)
Hopefully I get back into the swing of blogging and a bit less rusty at it soon enough…