It's Sunday morning here... I'm lying on my couch, windows open but blanket on and my hands are cold and a hot water bottle at my feet might be nice.
I'm lying here, laptop propped up so I can type while reclining and I know if I went outside I'd warm up. It just feels colder here than it would feel elsewhere but I'm remembering last June when I had days and nights of miserably hot and I'm taking the time to enjoy feeling chilly right now. And that's ok.
I've been awake for about an hour and as I lay here looking at random, fairly upsetting things all over the internet I thought to myself... blog. Write something. So... "something". There. I wrote it. It is written. Ta da. Do I win?
I remember when I met Jason and let him convince me I should join Facebook to share my art and photography and even though I'd avoided it like the plague (which, hi, I still am avoiding the plague thank you very much!) I thought I'd try.... for some reason, and well, I bring this up right now because joining Facebook is really what drew me away from following and reading blogs. FB sucks up my time and energy, I'm not even really on it all that long, but I pop on and off whenever I am at my laptop (I've refused to put it on my phone). And it's like this weird "well what might have changed"? Or "what might I have missed"? "Notification yet?" and I know it's designed to have that addictive factor and to hit certain brain signals and and and and I know all that, it's just I guess I was thinking about how I understand why this site gets so many fewer views than it used to in its "heyday".
You know, when I used to write about dating. Actually. Like, when I had the energy to attempt it? Before I started squishing myself into a space that felt safe but small. Before Max, before Jason even. At some point after them I hit my wall of awful and I really stopped saying much at all (even though in retrospect I wish I'd kept up the journalling aspect of it all, but hey, paranoia's a hard one to work through....) I suppose I care a little.... even if I like to pretend I don't.
I often think about the folks who used to read and comment in the "olden days" and I genuinely wonder how they are and what they're up to. I went chasing some of them down as best I could the other day and actually found the social media of a couple of them and I just quietly followed them, and I do, I do actually care about you guys. Maybe it's part of my generation - we made friends, actual friends online and so I care about people who are real in some way but only ever appear via zeros and ones and over the world wide web dot com.
Anyway. "Something". I wrote something. Now I have to deal with my cold hands and the open windows and I should probably have some water or something too.