Ever more frequently, the posts on my blog dwindle; the monthly count, if one chooses to look, are almost insignificantly negligible.
I've meant to write about a whole plethora of things, but for some reason I never get quite to it. That isn't to say that I have what seems to be going around as easily as the season's flu: writer's block. I don't. That I can certainly assure you and myself. I do write, and for myself, but Supercalifragilisticsexyalidocious has more and more been losing the 'sexy' that makes it all that much more unique, if not only in name, but in quality.
I couldn't quite explain it to you either, or perhaps I might try. I guess with the advent of busy-hood in life, I have dedicated my downtime toward other pursuits. More specifically, actually and literally spending it down (on my bed, mind you). And with the accompaniment of the lowering temperatures of Winter, of course what else could be better than cuddling in bed after a long day at work?
So back to the original train of thought: I've been meaning to write about my job; not the one which rendered me senselessly stressed out, but the new one, which is a total flip- I love it. I love it so much that I am incapable of putting forth the words to do this love justice.
Or perhaps it is just that creeping lethargy that has invaded my pores; the habituation of lazy that has possessed my musculature devoted to blogging. Yes, perhaps, somewhat, if not entirely, it is this.
I have also meant to sing the praises of the wonders of the great outdoors. The snow! The wind! The blue! The twinkling lights of the season! The clouds! The moon (when spotted). Alas, I have not. Mayhap this small blurb does something to cover the void that has gaped unacceptably, having demarcated no record of the wonders of this year's winter.
Nevertheless.
It has just occurred to me, also, that the year is actually almost reaching its end. I have therefore, two choices. I can make a great deal about this, and wax philosophical. Or I can take the other road, and decide that time is only a phantom of the psyche and is irrelevant in the big picture. Okay, so that may also be somewhat philosophical. Oh well.
I also meant to put down in writing the fact that I'm pretty glad with life as it is right now. Oh, I know, I did devote a post to this on Lucid, and you can traipse over the snowy hills to read my thoughts as soon as you are through with this bit of toboganning.
There's a funny word, if there was one. Toboganning. I miss doing that, by the way, the good old days of dragging the sled behind us as we trudge through the knee high snow to the top of the hill. Good times, indeed.
and then, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!,
all
the
way
down.
