The premise of the blog is trite and gimmicky, and became so monstrously successful that it attracted hundreds of thousands of followers (NYT included), led to a book deal and then a the film which grossed $140 million. And that does irritate the hell out of me.
It is true that I can meander and have only recently found my Julia (the writing process), but I have always been true and raw and given everything I can think of, including first-person accounts of Hurricane Sandy, the Covid Pandemic and my sad lost childhood.
It’s not that I want attention (not like Amy Adams anyway), but more that I thought there would be something more at this point, something that might give all of these posts some meaning beyond filling the void.
I have been blogged for close to eight years. Sometimes I have been on my game, especially in the post Hurricane Sandy days.
Other days not so much. Greenland can definitely slow me down.
It appears that these quarantine days have got me back on my virtual pony. I have blogged fourteen straight days now – on everything I can think about and some I don’t as much.
I like the routine of blogging, no matter the irrelevance of it. It is a distraction, like my new spinning routine, part three of my speculative trilogy or filling in the sky of this 2,000-piece puzzle.
I much prefer these things to ruminating on the next steps of the quarantine, watching other people coping on social media, reading about those who have to work and realizing how little society actually cares about them, thinking about how stupid we all are, when this world will finally end, how pointless our existing ever was…
So, yeah, it’s better to stick to the blog. Maybe the puzzle too.