Today was a very stressful day, for a whole lot of tiny reasons, and now that I'm sitting at the end of it I'm not sure what I have to say. There isn't much I did today that I want to expand on or write about. I don't want to dig into my anxieties. For reasons of a sense of privacy, I don't want to talk about the best parts of the day; for reasons of spoilers, I don't want to talk about the media I consumed today.
Pretty frequently by the end of the day I'm sitting down at my blog and I don't know what to write about. This isn't a weird feeling for me. Today's only really different in that I don't have the energy to fight the impulse to blog about how I don't have anything to blog about. (It used to be like two thirds of my posts. It was a problem.)
I guess it's pretty in keeping with my overall self concept and existential experience that my natural flow for journaling starts with writing "I don't know," and "I don't want to talk about it."
Maybe on one of these difficult writing nights I should just push that a little farther, and see what happens.
Then, though, I guess I'll just have to write "No blog tonight" anyway, and link back here, because I doubt it'll be anything I want to share with the whole internet.