I have been experiencing some intense blog jealousy lately.
I took a hiatus from blogging from the end of February to June due to a little thing I like to call Baby #2. Apparently the first trimester of pregnancy involves a LOT of vomit for me, and that saps my already low supply of energy due to the building of placenta and whatnot, so I just took a break. Then I started feeling good again around mid-May, but I have been feeling less than inspired to blog. I've wanted to blog, but I just didn't feel like I had anything worthy to blog about.
Here's where the jealousy comes in. I enjoy reading quite a few blogs of some of dear friends from college. They are fabulously faithful at it, and enjoyable writers to boot. Reading their blogs makes me want to blog and not want to blog at the same time. Because their lives are WAY more interesting than mine.
My friend in Wisconsin is a super-mom. She gardens and crafts and keeps house like she's been doing it all her life. She and her husband are working on their house in their corner of the Wisconsin wilderness, and it is fascinating. I live in a 1,000 square foot, third story condo smack in the middle of suburbia that provides very little interesting material.
My friend in Omaha has three active kids and a fantastic take on the things of every day life. My one little Pumpkin Pie is cute and funny, but does not produce the wild adventures that her three take her on.
So here I am. This confession post is an attempt to break the horrible writer's block I've been having, because the only way to do that is to actually write. So by golly, I'm going to write, even if I have nothing to write about.