Is leaving for a month without notice just blogging suicide? Will a humble apology do (mea culpa) or is there flogging involved?
I don’t know exactly what happened.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have a host of excuses. A million of them. Some could even make you cry.
But I can’t roll out that list. Pointless because every writer has them. Poe an addict, Toni Morrison a single working mom, JK Rowling on the Dole. Virginia Wolf was certainly down in the dumps.
So let’s just move on.
Except there is one small thing.
I realized today I’m angry. At everything. At everyone. It’s not a huge loud anger. And it is murky and misdirected. But I think it is anger nonetheless.
This happened once before when I was going through a huge psychological transition in my life, at the end of which I was divorced, gay, bartending, and writing.
And now, 25 years later I’m wondering, what the hell is left?
But something is left. Something has been sitting and stewing deep in the darkness like Gollum in The Hobbit, just waiting for that ring. And pardon the pun, but I can’t put my finger on it.
I don’t think therapy can help with this one. Or food, or avoidance, or prayer, or alcohol. Not even a winning lottery ticket, which is what I usually hold out hope for, despite the fact that I never play.
Maybe Morgan Freeman could help. I like him. Maybe a nice hobby, like scrapbooking or bodysurfing.
It’s hard to have an existential crisis at my age. I feel ridiculous. Petty. I can’t sing Coldplay’s Fix You at the top of my lungs and have anyone take me seriously and join in.
But I can blog. I can come back to this, sit here and hit the Publish key, hope someone is still out there.
Lights will guide you home…
ifyoucantwriteblog 
Still out here. Still struggling right along with you whether you know it or not. At least an existential crisis is a valid excuse. There’s something doubly depressing about absence/block/neglect due to the daily grind — refinancing the mortgage, dealing with kids, getting a new roof, attending to elderly parents, making fucking dinner. My excuses.
Good to hear you’re still out there. As for the the daily grind, I can relate and have 2 words for you. Cereal night.
Here’s my two words’ worth. Drunken bender.
Well, you could open up a window and shout ‘I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE” – even standing in the middle of a mall would probably work too. But I doubt that it would have a lasting effect (or at least the lasting effect you might want).
So after divorced, gay, bartending, and writing, you’re wondering what the hell is left?
My guess is that there are some of us that always will be “out there” waiting for your next blog. But perhaps you need to ask yourself, “And that is sufficient for me in what way?”
Or maybe you need to start a backlog of blog ideas so you can write your blog more easily and therefore more often. Here are some ideas to start – (1) why are all of Tom Cruise’s wives 33 when they divorce him, and (2) do you think the grunts that women tennis players make should be outlawed. Clearly, blogging about topics like this will open up a whole new demographic of readers for you.
Is getting old a legitmate excuse?
Wow, I never knew that about Tom Cruise. Thanks for the update, for the anger management tips, and for hanging in with my sporadic posts. Getting old is an excuse for everything and therefore no excuse at all. Get writing!