I can’t bring myself to write a blog entry. I sift through the ideas in my head, I’ve got plenty, but none of them seem good enough, inspiring enough. Or is it just that it seems like too much work and I’m tired? Or is it that I’m predicting defeat. That is, thinking of a first sentence and then, scared of not coming up with a second, just deciding that it’s no use. Or am I just lazy?

It really just came to me. Honesty. Just now as I whinged away. It’s an issue of space. I don’t feel like I have the space in my head. Work is taking up a lot right now…Life in the cube. Toss in some worry. And the life-in-vibrant-colors activity of raising a toddler.

In an ideal world writing -- doing -- wouldn't be dependant on mood, on energy, on my little tiny feelings. I've spent a lot of time fretting over my consistency, or lack there of, of production. Because lack of product can equal lack of value. And lack of value equals waste of time. And waste of time puts me that much farther from what I want. Who I think I am.

So this minute, right now, that cheesy song pops in my mind. "Turn, Turn, Turn." I hated that song as a kid. I don't like the refrain. "Turn, turn, turn." It's sort of spooky. Turn, Turn, Turn. I can say I've been doing a lot of thinking. Turn, turn, turn. So that's something.