The thing about writing daily is that it’s a task I have to complete. I have it hanging over my head every day. “Hanging over my head” is a little dramatic but I guess it’s sort of like imagine if you had to take the trash out every single day. Not a big deal. But eventually you would come to the end of the day where you had forgotten and you’d think, “Dammit, I have to take out the trash.”

So, that’s what blogging is. Taking out the trash.

This metaphor has lost its utility.

The reason Friday is hard is because it’s a really great day to have an evening of nothing. You’ve worked all week and it’s time to go home and collect your reward and the reward is nothing. Sweet, blissful nothing. A night of Netflix or reading or some sports game and then you go to sleep knowing that you do not have to wake up and go to work the next day. You have hours where you are not responsible for anything.

Unless you have committed to writing something every day.

So, here I am. It’s almost midnight. I’m writing just to go to sleep like I did on Monday. It’s Memorial Day weekend, I have very little to do. I also currently have not hit my minimum word count of two hundred and fifty.

Anything else to talk about?

The Mets lost to the Brewers tonight. That 11-1 start really flamed out quickly.

I ran five miles this morning. Gotta keep my miles up for the marathon next year.

How about that Moses Farrow?

Oh wait! Never mind!

I hit 250 a couple of sentences ago. Listen, loyal readers, I know that I’ve been boring lately. I’ll make it up to you.

Eventually.