OK, I’ve been negligent; I’d be the first to admit that. Also, a bit of a procrastinator, which is part of being in the journalism business (if they never gave us deadlines, you’d probably never see a newspaper).
I’ve been meaning to write for the last month — honest! — but something always got in the way, not the least of which was this big mental block I seemed to hit when it came to blogging.
Not that there hasn’t been topics. For instance, I could point out the ridiculousness of this particular viewpoint; I don’t disagree with the idea of banning smoking in public places — and I noted several municipalities, notably Ottawa, have taken steps to ban it for community events (take that, Elvis!) — but quite another to accuse your fellow councillors of voting in their own self-interest while outing them as smokers (since smoking, as far as I know, is still legal for the time being).
It springs to mind the Kent Brockman quote in the Bart’s Comet episode: “Now, over the years, a newsman learns a number of things that for
one reason or another, he just cannot report. It doesn’t seem to matter now, so… the following people are gay.”
Anyhoo…
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been asked what’s happening with the blog: it’s continuing, but home life and work and paddling have conspired to interfere with my ability to ponder the ridiculousness of local politics. There’s a certain state of mind you have to be in to write pithy screeds, and I just haven’t been in that state of mind.
On the home front, things have been a little emotionally exhausting for reasons I can’t really explore here. At the word factory — well, I’ve been really enjoying my work of late, and embracing some of the changes our company have been implementing, especially when it comes to the Innerweb. But there’s been a lot of, well, work — and combined with answering the phone, dealing with a ton of email, and people knocking at my door, it means the occasional typo creeps in online (thanks to those who are good enough to email me to give me a head’s up; not so much thanks to people who feel the need to point out errors on Facebook) no matter how many times I read over a story (we try to make sure it gets fixed for the treeware version).
Paddling is the respite; hammering it out to the TN-11 buoy, the only thing to think about is how to make my stroke more efficient, to cover the same amount of water faster. Then across to TN-10, northeast of the island, before turning back to the harbour.
(I’ve been pondering a blog post on my paddling adventures… something else I need to get to).
I guess what it boils down to is I’ve felt a general sense of… what, malaise? Melancholy? Self-doubt? It could be I’ve hit that age when I should be purchasing a Harley Davidson and a full set of leathers in some effort to recapture a bit of youthfulness. However, I’m not inclined to buy a bike (though I always threaten to walk down the main street wearing nothing but a set of chaps), nor could I afford it even if I wanted to.
But, hey, we all lead busy lives, and I know of some folks going through tougher challenges than myself, for one reason or another. Right now, my life seems to be overtaking my ability to deal with it, but it’s a rough patch I’m sure I’ll muddle through, as I always do. All I need is, perhaps, not sympathy — because I don’t need sympathy — but a little understanding… And if not understanding, perhaps then be a little less inclined to nit-pick and be critical…
And perhaps for someone to buy me a drink. That’ll lift my sense of self-esteem…
