I even got a few answers, which is unusual. Ordinarily, I’m the one whispering at a boxing match–I’m there, you just can’t hear me over the crowd.
One of the ideas was to write about Twitter and tweeting. I just did. Other than whining some more about how I stink at it, I think I’ve exhausted the subject.
Someone suggested I write about why we have to post on Fridays. That’s a good question. I’m not the only one who tries to post every MWF. A few folks actually post M-F, even fewer S-S. The answer for me is easy though. I don’t want to post on Saturdays, and I try not to work on Sundays, so MWF it is. Although if I keep having these dry spells, I may just post Mondays and Thursdays.
Late yesterday afternoon, I was a little frantic knowing I had to write something today and not having a clue what it would be, so I sat by the window with pen and paper in hand (still don’t have my camera) and willed the ducks and squirrels to do something funny. Dadburned tempermental country critters. They don’t perform on demand. So, as I said, I was left scratching my head and begging ideas from Tweeters this morning.
Another one was to post about how weather affects our writing. That one’s really interesting, because the second part of the suggestion was “how to get around a pretty day.” I think I’m a bit different from everyone else. Pretty days are my best writing times. High pressure, light northerly breeze, low humidity–times when anyone else would rather be tossing a frisbee to their dog are times I’m most productive. Of course, if I had a dog, I’d probably want to be out tossing a frisbee, too. Maybe one of the cats . . . nah.
Truth is, unless I’m doing something fun, I’m not that outdoorsy. By “fun” I mean horseback riding, fishing, hunting, or going to football or baseball games or a NASCAR track or a rodeo. Otherwise, I have no patience for the bugs and no tolerance for heat. Besides, being a redhead, I can burn worse than a newlywed’s meatloaf. So I’m pretty content to sit in my climate controlled house and observe the the great outdoors through the bank of windows in my living room.
I’m worse at everything during gray weather, low pressure days. My energy level sinks to nothing, right down there with my interest level. If I ever got an another office job, I’d never survive. You can’t pry me out of the house in low-pressure days. Maybe that’s what I need to explore: Why does barometric pressure affect my mood and energy?
Anyone have an answer?
Look at this. I’ve written an entire post about virtually nothing with no ideas of my own to add to the mix. And it’s not too bad. Maybe I should hit up Twitterville more often.