A few days ago I was reading the blog of a fellow Portlander with the title "Hanging Blog Syndrome." I immediately recognized the malady. Despite having my shiny new Macbook for almost a month now (thank you again, dear friends who donated it!), you can almost hear the creaking of this poor blog as it hangs forlornly in cyberspace.
My blogging is always rather meager when A. is here -- as is his productivity also. Two people sharing a 400sq foot studio for two and a half months without pause except for my doctors appointments or his trips to the store is not particularly conducive to introspective pursuits.
Neither is chronic illness blogging-friendly. Good days have been rare for a few years now, even if I always think they are close at hand. Instead there are horrible days and less horrible days. Most of the time my brain is cream of wheat and I'm too weak to sit up in bed, drag my fingers across a keyboard and input all the thoughts I've had during the hour upon hour of laying in bed. You have no idea how jealous I am of those of you who can blog every day or even every week. And even more jealous of those of you who get to read blogs regularly or interact incessantly on forums like the Phoenix Rising board (which I've grown fond of).
If I could write via mere thought, my hanging blog syndrome would be a thing of the past. The brevity and immediacy of Twitter has made composing my thoughts less onerous than blogging, though admittedly more banal. I suspect you will continue to find me Twittering more than I blog.
But A. is about to return home to the UK. Bad for cuddles and companionship, yet more promising for blogging, as is the recent return of my writing head. Like so many things, it's "use it or lose it" with writing. Blogging is one way I hang on.