Given how little I have been writing lately, you'd be forgiven for thinking that I just don't have anything interesting going on. You'd be right, and you'd be forgiven.
I don't know. I've actually had plenty of things going on but I find myself drawing into myself more and more lately. I'm just not feeling the need to share.
I've been simplifying my life more and more. Which has been great. But it means that I talk to less and less people. And I'm okay with that. For now.
During the first week of March, my kids were on Spring Break. I'm not sure how it happened, but my father somehow used his impending blindness to guilt me into letting my parents take my kids for the week.
So my husband and I were going to maybe take a trip or spend the week at home remodeling the bathroom. But he ended up going TDY (and not inviting me along...pout) so I spent an entire week home alone doing absolutely nothing.
It was heaven.
Okay, actually I took a couple of days to Spring clean, but I spent the rest of the week reading and watching Bones and Spartacus, Blood and Sand.
I had intended to blog every day, since I was alone and all that, but I ended up barely going online at all.
I find myself being more and more resentful of technology and its ability to keep us absolutely connected and available all the damn time.
Sometimes I worry that I'm going to be one of those old widows who lives alone in a house filled with crap and never goes outside. I can envision it too easily. I'll never wash my hair and I'll re-read the same dozen books over and over and watch handsome men on television all day long.
I'm going to have to get a boyfriend in my old age.
And on that note, I just realized...today my blog turns six-years-old. If it was a kid it would be in Kindergarten. Holy heck!