Of Blames and Summer

The literary gods must really resent me right now. March for me, blog-wise, not even worth mentioning. And this entry’s going to be short so don’t expect that much. I just want to let everybody know that my fingers are still intact and that my brain still works. At least, I think it still does.

What gives anyways? I have no idea. It’s not like I don’t have stories and ideas to share…believe me, I have lots of those. I may even have discovered the cure for the common cold this month. Okay, maybe not that extreme but I do have lots of things in my mind: countless tags, gimiks and trips, interesting situations, and even the departure of my wingman. But no!

Thus, I’m blaming it on summer. Since summer is here, one is obligatory to leave the comfort of the city and embark on long road trips and settle in some privy resort a couple of miles from civilization. Obvious, isn’t it. (But then again, that excuse only works for the weekends.) Next up would be putting the blame on my professional career. Summer here is fall in the States. Fall for some reason gives us ridiculous amount of jobs. Busy, busy, busy…that’s how we are in the office. (But no one’s ever going to believe me.) On to my classic reason: my insatiable drive to follow and watch my shows. (Classic, like I said.) And finally, the heat. Yes, it’s too damn hot and warm to write. My brain’s getting fried. (Now that, people would believe that.)

Whatever the reason may be, I feel dumb. Not blonde dumb, but you know what I mean. I haven’t even shared my feeling soul-less for the past few weeks. I have to start writing voraciously again. I have to, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I will. LOL. I’m hoping though. In the meantime, just wait for my “March” blog on the day of the fools next week. (--,)