Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Oblogatory

One challenge of blogging – a primary reason so many fall by the wayside, I think – is that you feel obliged to repackage your day, and find that perfect kernel, even on days when you don’t really have anything to blog about. I don’t know about other bloggers, but I find there is a part of myself that is constantly alert behind the brain, self-monitoring for the blog, evaluating the random tidbits and thoughts that cross the synapses for humor, relevance, interest, and above all, that amorphous quality we might call blogability. It's tiring. It makes me feel verymildly anxious about the world once it's been a few days and I haven't found just the right subject yet.

And it never goes away.

There’s a part of me that knows it’s okay to take a day off from blogging, rather than muddy the ether with thought even I don’t really want. Folks will forgive me. I will forgive me. Nobody cares, really.

But there’s a part of me that knows that the potential for caring isn't entirely divorced from the issue of posting frequency. Interest wanes quickly in a digital world. I've done it myself – if a newly found blog isn't updating as often as I’m visiting, I don’t bother going back as often. Some, to be sure, are still worth a peek every now and then, just to catch up; my habit now, in fact, tends more towards the catch-up-on-a-week-of-otherblogsallatonce, skim-and-skip perusal than the daily visit of other blogs. I project this tendency on the blogging community, of course, Knowing other bloggers through blogs, I assume commonality more than I should, perhaps, but can you blame me? Though the plural of anecdote isn't data, like most of us, I have to assume that other people are mostly like me, or I'll go mad with loneliness.

And so, we blog, sometimes, when we have nothing to say.

At some point today, I read half an article (found via fark) about what would surely be the first classic rock radio station to adopt an all-90s format, and thought I might have something to say something about the rapidly collapsing distance between a time period (say, the nineties) and nostalgia for that time period.

But the bon mot never came. I don’t, really, have anything to say here, at least nothing coherent, cohesive, cogent, new. I’m tired, and it’s not worth blogging about today, though on some less tired days, perhaps over a vacation, it might have been worth the effort. Which is just to say:

My apologies. It seems as if there will be no blogentry today. Please come back tomorrow, when perhaps I will have found something worth sharing with the bloggiverse.