The frustrating thing is that I actually am inspired to keep this blog up and running. I want it. But the time! Cripes the time. Where does it go? I write "Blog" on my list every day, and every day it gets bumped to the bottom, and then off, and then onto the next day's list. Throughout each day, I'll imagine how I'm going to start my next post. I'll think of a clever opening, or something I want to write about, and then... suddenly... it is five days later, no words written, and no idea of just what those (supposedly) great ideas were.
I was going to write something about meeting my ex's mom for the first time, and the list of questions I abysmally failed to answer appropriately. I was 19. He was 28. I thought everything was fine. I think I did eventually grow on his mom. Somehow, that was linked to cooking. To blogging. To a clever entry that you may very well never read.
I was going to write about making pesto for the first time, and my father's questionable compliment of it. I don't think he cared for my rendition. But he ate it. What else could he do? Trapped, at anchor, as he was?
I was going to write about how my kid loves broccoli and zuchinni and beans and tomatoes and sweet potatoes and onions in a balsamic vinegar reduction sauce, but then I thought that might sound like I was bragging.
And now, what do I write, what do I share, what do I post to get started again?
It should be something catchy. Something yummy. Something that thousands of people are searching for online at this very moment. Or maybe not at this moment. Maybe in a few days, when everything else is crossed off my list.
Fear not! The Gally
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