From June 12th, 2019: I haven’t written anything in awhile, I know. Slap me with your splintered ruler. (Any Alanis fans out there?) It feels like a waste when I don’t write, like I’m throwing away perfectly good food that I’ve allowed to rot simply because I forgot to eat it. Yes, that happens more often than I care to admit. But I sit and I try to think if I have anything worthy to share. And most times, I don’t. So I don’t write one day. And one day turns to two, and that stretches into a week, and before I know it, a month has gone by and I haven’t shared a word. Because I don’t have anything much to say. Oh, I’m doing stuff, and I do have topics I’d like to write about, but most people have an idea of me: that I’m fairly happy-go-lucky, apart from my occasional outburst on fast lane slow drivers and what have you. The truth is, sometimes I feel like I have bees in my head searching for a place to build a hive. It’s a relentless buzzing as they dart here, there, and yon, smacking into the sides of my skull and flying into each other because their radar doesn’t work in such close quarters at warp speed. Occassionally it’…
