It's the last month of 2004 tomorrow, and it's occurred to me that I haven't spent much time around here.
Doing a quick check, it looks like I've written a little over 50 posts this year, down from around 170 last year. And the year before that was around 340. Mainly, my activity around here has progressed toward much more link blogging using my own tools and, more recently, del.icio.us. When I actually have written something of my own lately, I've tended toward sweating over longer entries or nothing at all.
Does all this mean I'm an ex-blogger? Or was I ever? On the other hand, who really cares? Funny thing is, I'm sure I can find a few dozen entries I've written, self-flagellating about not writing more often.
If I were to let you read from my handwritten journals, you'd find the same thing every few entries. It seems I suffer from a strange complex of guilt and pedestal building: I feel guilty for not writing more, but then when I have something quick I could write, I feel guilty for not having something grander to offer.
Of course, there's also the fact that I had a really busy streak in my work-a-day life for awhile there, but for the past month or so I've mostly been lying fallow. Now, I'm getting antsy to produce some Worthwhile Things again.
Bah. How about an early New Years' Resolution to follow my own advice and let my brain dribble barely-worthy crap here on a more regular basis.
And, how about I make this the last entry I write about not writing entries? I'm sure I can come up with other topics about which to write when I can't think of what to write.