Blahg

That's how I've been feeling about writing this blog-blah, blech, meh. I've lost my purpose. I don't fit into any blogger niche-this is certainly not a lifestyle publication that helps you dress better, create beachy hair waves, or make your living room nicer, nor is it a mommy blog focused on either kevetching our helping people parent more effectively.  I'm most definitely not a guru of existential wisdom handing out profound advice. My life isn't entirely exciting or difficult either, so I don't offer you an opportunity of escapism, reflection, or comparison. What is this then, and more importantly, why is this?

I don't know, but for some reason, I can't let it go.  I still check on my readership after months of idleness and am thrilled when so much as one person stumbles upon my work.  A solid dozen found me last week.  It made me smile and guffaw out loud. That has to mean something...my gut saying yay as my head says nay. 

It's a new year. I think I'll go gut and blog on.

Overthinking usually leads to under-performing.  Fears and doubts drastically slow, if not cripple us.  If we are not talking about life or death stuff, what's so bad about shutting off our minds and just going for it?  What's really the worst that can happen if we listen to our guts? Why don't we entrust our intuition rather than our analytics with daily decisions?

Truth bomb. I am a faux, wannabe writer.  A teacher with a dusty journalism degree who wants to be heard outside of my head for either narcissistic or altruistic reasons; I'm not sure which.  I don't have a thematic, polished blog, and there's essentially no use or purpose for it. However, that doesn't mean there's no value. Some things can't be articulated or quantified.  It feels good pretending to write to the masses.  I like coming up with a clever line or quip.  I like re-living and narrating funny or poignant events from my life.  And maybe you like reading and can connect to them.  That has to be enough.  It's a new year.  Guts and glory.