And it feels weird....
You know all those lame, awful, ridiculous things people say when they break up? The whole "its not you, its me..." genre? Or, better yet, "We're the two right people but at the wrong time..." That's what I feel like saying to my blog.
I just can't get it together. Let's be honest, it isn't the blog's fault. Last week I actually said the words "I guess I'll go to Target today since I got dressed." Since. I. Got. Dressed. I've turned into one of those stay at home moms with the wild hair and crazy eyes desperate for contact with the outside world. But instead of nurturing a small child, I'm nurturing my dissertation. And it is slowly sucking the life out of me...but in a good way. As if that makes sense. I'm in a routine. A routine that doesn't really include thinking about anything other than the media representation of Muslim women. A routine that doesn't, obviously, include blogging. This is the point where I should apologize for being a bad friend about not returning phone calls...or sending holiday mail...or having anything to say when we talk.
But perhaps the real reason I don't blog is that I feel guilty. I feel guilty for feeling like I have nothing to say. I feel guilty for being silent. It is a privilege to stay at home and write. It is a privilege to get paid to think. It is a privilege not to have to wait in line for unemployment payment. It is a privilege to be removed from reality.
I don't fool myself. I know you don't look here for insight or knowledge so you aren't expecting the great American blog post. But I also know you don't look here for completely self-absorbed posts about my writing and whining.
But hopefully you look here for memes because I've got one coming up*....
hugs...
*thanks, slightly
You know all those lame, awful, ridiculous things people say when they break up? The whole "its not you, its me..." genre? Or, better yet, "We're the two right people but at the wrong time..." That's what I feel like saying to my blog.
I just can't get it together. Let's be honest, it isn't the blog's fault. Last week I actually said the words "I guess I'll go to Target today since I got dressed." Since. I. Got. Dressed. I've turned into one of those stay at home moms with the wild hair and crazy eyes desperate for contact with the outside world. But instead of nurturing a small child, I'm nurturing my dissertation. And it is slowly sucking the life out of me...but in a good way. As if that makes sense. I'm in a routine. A routine that doesn't really include thinking about anything other than the media representation of Muslim women. A routine that doesn't, obviously, include blogging. This is the point where I should apologize for being a bad friend about not returning phone calls...or sending holiday mail...or having anything to say when we talk.
But perhaps the real reason I don't blog is that I feel guilty. I feel guilty for feeling like I have nothing to say. I feel guilty for being silent. It is a privilege to stay at home and write. It is a privilege to get paid to think. It is a privilege not to have to wait in line for unemployment payment. It is a privilege to be removed from reality.
I don't fool myself. I know you don't look here for insight or knowledge so you aren't expecting the great American blog post. But I also know you don't look here for completely self-absorbed posts about my writing and whining.
But hopefully you look here for memes because I've got one coming up*....
hugs...
*thanks, slightly
2 Comments:
For not having anything to say, you had a really great insight that moved me: it's a privilege to be in a career that allows us to stay at home and write our thoughts rather deal with what most Americans run into everyday. Thanks for injecting a little perspective!
Hang in there my friend....I just tried posting a really insightful comment...but then when I tried choosing a different blogger identity...it was lost....so now you get this...Good Luck. Know I am thinking about you and sending you as much insight and genius I can. Love ya
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