I made it the whole day through work, and that’s seems like an accomplishment worthy of, at the very least, a pat on the back. It was rough. I was tired. Gravity had not returned to normal. I was weighed down and dragging the entire day.
I came home and wrote a guilty post about a cake I made over the summer. It was not the cake I’d intended to post about. I had meant to make a new cake. But it’s hard to make cake when you can barely lift your arms.
I need to become a person who gets stuff done. It seems like that’s what bloggers do. I can’t be lazy if I want to be a blogger. I’m thinking about adding more content, if I can come up with it. I’m at three posts a week right now, but I’m thinking of bumping it up to four. I’m not sure if I should make it a bit more personal.
I don’t know why I’m worried so much about something nobody reads. Still, I want to be proud of my work. Meh. It probably doesn’t matter.
Being sick makes me rather boring. I really have nothing to report about the day. All I could think about was getting to sleep. Why is sleeping so great? I wish I could do more of it.
Enough of this dullness. The end.