I've been doing lots of things, internet.
I've been working out a lot. I've been cleaning more. I've been raising children and trying to keep myself from jumping off a cliff better my parenting skills.
What I haven't been doing is writing. Here or anywhere really. I haven't been doing any artwork, either. I collapse after the kids are down or I fold laundry in front of the TV (watching Dr. Who on Netflix or Orphan Black on BBC America.) (If you're not watching that show, you should try it.)
My husband is doing work on the laptop at night and during the day, while I'm trying to keep myself from jumping off a cliff parent and go to the gym and clean a little, I don't sit down at the computer. It draws children to me from wherever they are.
But I miss the writing and the connecting and for whatever reason, I'm not ready to give it up. I still think of myself as loving to write and connect and communicate and so I logged on today. My computer didn't even remember my blog.
I had to enter the whole URL.
That's a damn shame, ain't it?