“Have you done a blog post lately?” Oh brother. Kiss of death. If my over-achieving, organized, buttoned-up, methodical husband asks me if I’ve done something, his question might as well say what he really means which is, “You should have completed (fill in task) by now, why are you so undisciplined?” It’s okay. I’m used to it.
My son told me that if I want people to read my blog I have to be consistent. Write regularly. People like to tune in to the Nightly News, but not if it’s every third Thursday in August, except Leap Year and twice on a Friday in March.
I agree I need to be more disciplined but I’ve been busy. I was living life instead of talking about it. Doing plenty. Saying little. At the end of November I was Giving Thanks. Then I was busy gardening in December, which is reason to give more Thanks.
And then I had to decorate for Christmas. My father-in-law asked 3 times over 3 days if he could bring the tree in from the garage for me. I heard, “You should have completed (decorating tree) by now, why are you so undisciplined?” Maybe he was just trying to be helpful, but he is the father of my husband. I’m probably just reading into it.
I don’t write every Monday or every other Wednesday because it would be a routine. Routines are for people who wash the dishes right after dinner. Or people who poop at 10:00 a.m. after morning coffee, while reading their daily newspaper. You can set the atomic clock by the movement of their large intestines. Not gonna happen. My colon and I walk to the beat of a different drummer. To my credit, I do have some routines. I routinely lose track of time. I routinely leave lights on. I throw out my pruners in the lawn bags annually. I hug my husband and son daily. And I routinely leave the bathroom door open after I use it on a non-routine basis.