So, Busy Since Birth seems to be barely alive. I've posted only 17 times so far this year, which is pathetic. But like almost every other blogger I've ever encountered, it seems to be getting harder to sustain this (non-paying) medium, and the psychic payoff for doing so is minimal. This March will be 10 years of blogging though, and I am committed to at least hitting that milestone, even if I barely make it to first base.
Oy. A sports metaphor. I'm really sorry about that. Too much time pretending to care about sports at the office. Though, since we're here now, go Tribe! (My Cleveland is showing.)
Anyway, it's another NaBloPoMo, which translates to "bloggers cajoling other bloggers into writing every something every day for a month because we think it's good for us until it actually drives us insane." I've done this a few times now, and those last few days of November are PAINFUL, but the month overall is fantastic. I do feel better when I make time for writing every day, and as my post count this year shows, I haven't been feeling my best this year. Definitely not enough moments of nacho happiness.
I'm still project-less. I mean, Hannah's upcoming bat mitzvah is a huge distraction/amazing thing, and I have some volunteer things that start up soon, but I'm still missing my Having It All Project/Listen To Your Mother side gig that's mine, all mine. I keep waiting for inspiration to strike, but I have yet to find it at the bottom of an episode of Real Housewives (though I'm really digging Siggy on RHONJ, anyone else?). So I am giving myself until mid-January for the idea to just come to me, and if it doesn't by then, I will find ways to actively seek it out.
And in the meantime, a little NaBloPoMo never *really* hurt anyone, right? Here we go.