I keep putting off writing.

I keep giving reason’s why, excuses really. I had a teacher in high school that when presented with a poor excuse from a student he would say, “You have a hundred excuses, but not one good reason.”

Therein lies my truth. I want to play video games, or watch a tv show, or the kids or the wife or….

One hundred good excuses, not one good reason.

So here I am writing a blog post about why I have been whining about not being able to write a blog post.

Or something like that.

I have wanted to write about things in my life that have passed, like my dog Prince having cancer and dying, or the infertility that is now my twins, or my love of Fudge Rounds (never mind, I did this one, kinda), or how my wife just bought a new lamp for the living room! No really, it’s great.

The reason is writing about what I would like to write about it mentally draining. I think so intensely while I am typing about what I want to say that by the time I am finished I legitimately feel fatigued.

But writing is cathartic. It is for me. So to the four or five people that will read this, I will be putting forth an effort to fight the fatigue and write more. I have missed it.