You Know It's Time To Blog When...

...Your blogging notebook is dog-eared, but hardly anything is crossed off.
...It's practically been forever two months since you last had a date with Blogger.*
...Your mom resorts to calling you to see if you're OK.
...You're suffering from Blogger's Guilt Syndrome.**
...Friends send "Did you and Blogger break up?" messages to your inbox.
...You've missed reading the spammed comments on Friday nights.***
...Family members suggest Feedly is "defective", because nothing from you is showing up in their blog list.

So if that describes you, get off your duff and blog already.


Kettle Calling The Pot Black,
Cynthia



*My last date with Blogger did NOT end well. He swallowed my entire post and left me with the bill. Not very gentlemanly. Here's to second chances, buddy.
**If you or a loved one is suffering from BGS, seek help. Reach out to someone with Wi-Fi and overcome your BGS today!
***Seriously a highlight for us around here, folks. It doesn't take much.

Muddled Thoughts And Made-Up Words

I took a braincation.

I sent my brain on a vacation. It wasn't a glitzy destination with gobs of sightseeing and colorful memories. It was more of a gentle river ride, drifting to the whims of a lazy current; The details of which are easily forgettable, but the effects of which are far-reaching. I drifted from bank to bank, allowing refreshing waters to wash away grimy sludge. What's left behind are more pristine thoughts than the muddled quagmire I've been slogging through for the past few weeks.

It wasn't writer's block, it was writer's deluge. So very many thoughts and too few minutes left before the clock strikes midnight. With an overload of ideas, I short-circuited my own creativity. Not brilliant, I tell you.

So after a nice little trip down the lazy river, I've returned with less sludge, more clarity and a sweet tan.* My thanks and admiration to you dear readers for indulging my fancies. 



Blessings,
Cynthia


*If I'm going to get tanned on my braincation, you'd better believe it won't be one of those burn-and-then-peel-back-to-pasty-white jobs.