In a "true" blog, you post every day, at least once and sometimes more often. There's an article in today's New York Times about how the blogging life may be bad for your health. Ah, the pressure to post one's thoughts with great frequency. Fortunately, the writer of The Plog has resisted this urge and decided to post only when she feels like it. She has enough health-related issues with which to contend, and does not need the stress of daily blogmanship.
Somehow, the morning has disappeared and the afternoon is staring me in the face. How did this happen? Marty guilted me into baking a banana bread with the rotting bananas I'd intended to toss. It was such a Costa Rica moment. I was forced to read sections of the Sunday Times because I was soooo busy yesterday visiting friends in person and via telephone. I read, printed and emailed some articles pertaining to my grant-writing activities. I listened to a poem by Robert Frost called Desert Places on NPR, was compelled to google it and read said poem and several others. Then I remembered the meatballs. Isn't that the dryer beeping? Checked the LLS discussion board to find a post by the Long Lost Leah, successfully transplanted on Saturday. Yeah! Think about blogging but realize Time's winged chariot grows near. The meatballs aren't going to make themselves. Thank god the phone hasn't rung. So who's writing this post?
Today, there's no time for blogging. That's a good thing.