It’s not you. It’s me.
I’m pretty sure the day I really stopped reading was the day I packed up the last of my classroom [slash]office and locked the door on my elementary school teaching career.
yes, i took the stapler.
But it started to wane before then, I know.
It’s just…well…how do I say this?
better different other things to do.
Like moving. House-sitting. Being semi-homeless.
but always with a well-stocked kitchen.
Road-tripping and traveling.
with snacks. obviously.
Wisconsin, not just once, but twice.
And more books.
Messing around in the kitchen.
Sometimes not (quite).
candied basil + mint WILL happen. with less egg wash.
Taking seemingly every class at the gym.
In between Best Body Boot Camp circuits.
And perfecting my cornhole game.
Lunch with mentors.
Dinners with friends.
Suits: Season Two.
Lots and lots of coffee.
[And I do mean lots.]
Taking up residence--in fact–at the local coffee shop.
Remember that whole PhD thing?
(gratuitous promotion of stephen kellogg's solo album)
Stopping to smell the flowers.
(Or at least take pictures of them.)
I don’t know.
we may be smart, but we can't keep our eyes open.
So, although I am still writing, I might not be reading your blog.
And that means you probably will stop reading mine.
But it’s cool.
I’ll forgive you.
Like I’m sure you forgive me.