offline

On New Year’s Day I reckon I’ll break my promise to myself to post every day for a year. After 266 days my promise is intact. It’s a leap year so I have 100 posts remaining.

Talking to my mother on the phone, I refer to things written in this blog, reflections on the state of my life. I explain the difficulty after 266 posts in 266 days of knowing how repetitive I’ve been, whether I’ve used this title for a post before, or three times.

Only occasionally have I reread a post, but only to check the accuracy of what I’ve written, to make sure I’m quoting myself correctly, to check the date of a post. Despite the fact that few consecutive posts chronicle consecutive days, I hope the whole hangs together with coherence and consistency. But until I read it all, about March next year, I just won’t know.

Do I find myself running out of things to write about? Yes. I thought I had enough opinions to last a year, but I don’t. I tire of commenting on current events or current affairs. I’m sick of writing about stuff I’m doing each day, though that was the aim on day one, albeit to measure the progress of one man’s journey.

Lately, when I’ve been feeling as low as you can go, when the woman I love and I have ground to a halt, the point of writing escapes me, the motivation to write is six feet below zero, to mix metaphors. But write I must.

Today I struggle to post because I’ve lost my interweb connection. I eliminate possible causes by trial and error but cannot diagnose the problem. I stare at the monitor in frustration and disbelief, and marvel at my reliance on being online.

Rock on.