Nothing from Nothing Leaves Nothing

I’m afraid I won’t be posting anything to this blog today.

I hope no one was looking forward to it or anything, because it’s just not happening. I try to make myself post something once a week because I think it’s good writing practice and because I enjoy it. (I don’t enjoy blogging while I’m doing it, of course. I like it later, when a spambot tries to sell me knockoff purses by commenting “Fantastic publish, very informative. I’m wondering why the other experts of this sector don’t realize this!” on a post I wrote about how drinking water will turn you into a mermaid. Then it’s fun.)

I'd like to become an expert within the mermaid sector, but I'm not really into the idea of grad school right now.

I’d like to become an expert within the mermaid sector, but I’m not really into the idea of grad school right now.

But today I tried to sit down and write a post and I didn’t enjoy it at all. This happens pretty often, actually. Sometimes Blog Night rolls around and I’m ready for it — I have a topic I care about, I have some solid jokes in mind and I have no problem structuring my thoughts. But other times I have less success.

Typical Reasons for Not Posting Something

1. I couldn’t think of anything interesting to write about. For example, today’s brainstorming list includes such sterling ideas as “Having boobs is the weirdest” and “Man, Winston’s so cute.”

Oh, did you think I was joking? I NEVER JOKE.

Oh, did you think I was joking? I NEVER JOKE.

2. I thought of something I kind of wanted to write about, but then I couldn’t think of anything else to say based on that premise. This evening, I tried to write about showers. “I used to love taking showers,” I wrote, “but now I do anything to put bathing off as long as I can! Isn’t that… you know how… what a weird….” But that’s all there was to that idea. Just the one sentence about me being kind of gross and then a bunch of false starts. You’ll note that that is not an entire blog post. It’s not even a tweet.

3. I had a long day at work. Or a regular day at work. Or a short day at work. Or I went to work at all. Or I didn’t go to work but I told myself that I shouldn’t spend vacation time blogging.

4. I remembered that I don’t actually have to write blog posts. I try to make it a routine. I sit down at the same time on the same day every week and try to crank something out because if it feels like a job then I’ll follow through on it. But occasionally (read, every time I start to write) I remember that it’s not a job and that there’s cooler stuff in the world. Like television! And my cat! And Wikipedia pages about unsolved mysteries!

5. I got distracted by something. Usually television, my cat, Wikipedia pages about unsolved mysteries or any other part of the internet.

There’s no blog post here now because tonight was kind of the perfect storm. I didn’t have a topic, I didn’t have any jokes about the topics I thought of, and I spent all day writing at work and didn’t want to do more of it when I got home. And then I followed one too many blogs on Tumblr so its algorithm finally got a handle on stuff I like and started suggesting cooler stuff. And then my cat walked by and I was doomed.

“Why would I do anything except pet him forever?” she thought, and briefly worried about her mental health.

It’s very easy to justify not writing something today, too.


1. Most of my subscribers are probably spambots anyway.

2. No one will notice if I skip a week. What’s that? I skipped last week, too? …Who’s counting?

3. What am I really gaining from blogging, anyway? A bunch of lovely internet people providing the validation I craved but never received from my parents in childhood hahahaha? Pfft. Unlikely.

4. There are so many bloggers out there who are funnier and smarter and better at writing than I will ever be. Why even try? Quitters never fail!

5. I work really hard, you know. I could use a break. I spent the last two nights really overdoing it — watching Game of Thrones on the couch while drinking a beer. Geez, Stephanie. Relax. Watch some Game of Thrones. Have a beer.

You seem SO tense.

You seem SO tense.

As you can see, those are some pretty compelling arguments. So I didn’t write a blog post today.

What I Did Instead

1. Lifted Winston over my head and sang that Lion King song

2. Made tea

3. Forgot I made tea

4. Made hot chocolate

5. Was unpleasantly surprised by rediscovery of the tea

6. Googled “microwaveable socks”

7. Legitimately wondered why it takes me so long to write stuff

8. Posted to Facebook

9. Made more tea

And there you have it. That’s why you’re not reading a blog post right now. Instead you’re reading an 800-word rant that includes three lists and some pictures I found on the internet.

It’s totally different.

Your 19th Nervous Breakdown

In December I went to a conference in Washington, D.C. My flights got all screwed up because while I was in the air the Dallas-Fort Worth airport apparently disappeared, or at least was lost in fog. Shenanigans ensued. When I finally got to my hotel room, I hadn’t eaten anything but airplane pretzels in 16 hours.

I looked at the hotel restaurant and room service brochure. The kitchen closed at 11pm. The clock said it was 11:03. I went down the hall to the door that said “vending,” but the only thing behind it was an ice machine. I stumbled to the gift shop, where I could see food behind the locked door. That’s when I fell to my knees and cursed the heavens.

My hypoglycemia manifests itself via dramatic gestures.

My hypoglycemia manifests itself in dramatic gestures.

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A World of Pure Imagination

Last weekend I finally finished the first draft of a thing I am physically incapable of talking about. Now it’s sitting in a folder on my computer, waiting for me to come back to it and give it the rewrite it desperately needs.

I say that because right now it is terrible, and I don’t mean that in an aw, shucks way. I mean that it might actually be pages and pages of random nouns and verbs strung together. The typing monkeys everyone is always talking about are probably producing an exact copy of it at this moment just by slamming their fists into the keyboard. I’m afraid to open The Folder because I’m worried I spent hours and hours of my life working on something and I could have produced the same result by jumbling up a dictionary.

Actually, shredding a dictionary and gluing it back together sounds like more fun than writing.

Actually, shredding a dictionary and gluing it back together sounds like more fun than writing.

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Wake Me up Before You Go-Go

I firmly believe that every single person has one incredible talent. Every individual has one thing they can do that blows all the competition out of the water. Some people are natural theoretical physicists. Others create awe-inspiring works of art. Still others are always able to find primo parking spots wherever they go.

I defy you to find a spot that's any closer to that house.

I defy you to find a spot that’s any closer to that house.

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She’s (Not) Leaving Home

There are a lot of things I struggle with. Making friends, for example. Confronting jerks, avoiding celery, deciding if listening to an audiobook counts as reading or not. These are my crosses to bear. But the most difficult thing for me to do in the whole, entire world — a world full of potential friends and jerks, celery and audiobooks — is to leave the house.

If I was the independently wealthy sort, I would never, ever, ever leave my home. Well. I might occasionally venture out to my garden to glare at the plants that refuse to grow, but other than that, you would never see me out there. Yes, if I had my way I would be a hermit.

No, the other kind of hermit.

That’s not what I mean.

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