OK, I have a good excuse for not blogging in months. Is it good enough? Er, no. work picked up and I needed the money. So, too tired to blog. Especially, when trying to doing something funny. (if you're going, what funny? Those were jokes? Ouch. Thanks.) notice the word trying to be funny, as in, not always, but hopefully sometimes. So, now I’m doing forty hours a week, yippee!! different job. The last one picked up but I switched before it dropped off, so I went from forty hours a week, to one day off to another forty hours a week, and I thank God for it. On the weekends, I see my boyfriend, and we play video games late into the night. Not mature, but there's something freaking hilarious about watching him blow himself up with a grenade. Too funny.
The biggest problem with blogging is the embarrassment of not keeping up. I deserve it. I could have done better, I really could. Yea I was tired, but not every night, or maybe I should have been more committed.
Plus, there's the emotional aspect. (these are not excuses, I want other writers to face what's wrong and say if a lameo like her can fix it, so can I!) I don't know, I didn't finish nanowrimo, I just lost interest. I think I started to hate the plot, felt like a bad writer, (using terms like felt is a good indication of telling not showing, so bad writing.) felt like it didn't matter, felt blah blah blah. You get the picture. I forced myself back to writing. I had to. Now, I have finished space pirates and the Indian short story I was working on. The Indian short is ready to go, this weekend ( my boyfriend has word on his computer, I don't, and whispers will only accept word documents for submissions.) I’ll send it off. And post about it.