Perhaps blogging isn't an addiction. Perhaps it's merely become a habit to run home and immediately sit down in front of my computer and hope that someone's left a comment for me. I know I have some readers because they have told me so by e-mail. However, I'm afraid that I have turned some of them on to becoming bloggers themselves, and oh, the guilt!
What about the yard? Will it ever get mowed again? Groceries? Will the refrigerator contain only a small bit of molded cheese and a stale bottle of soda water?
If you are like me you might micro-manage every verb and article, fine tuning your blog until (in your eyes) it's perfect. (Is fine tuning a word that should be hyphenated?) See what I mean?
Today at work, because of a co-worker's illness, I "got" to write/edit obituaries. ("Got" means "had.")
Of course, as everyone knows, there is a fine art to writing almost everything, including the congratulatory comments on birthday cards. I had to laugh at some of the guidelines the co-worker had set up for obits, however. "Try to include personal information, of course, but when they include 'she loved her family' - well, duh!" It was hard to imagine my elderly co-worker typing the words, "well, duh!"
Anyway, there may be mistakes in some of the wording of the Tuesday obits tomorrow. I'm sure someone will let me know if they are grievous mistakes.
For now, I just hope the co-worker gets better soon.
Now I must go. I have to try and think of what to make for dinner from a molded bit of cheese, some stale saltines, a tin of jalapeno sardines and sugar-free ice cream. Ta ta!