I am having a terrific time at eeking blogs out. Terrific as in the negative sense. Terrific as in “from Atlantic to Pacific, gee, the traffic is terrific.” It isn’t like there is nothing going on around here. Obviously, it’s the Christmas season, so much is going on.

I have been reading like a fiend with my free time – and facing the onerous task of finishing the last 200 pages of the 1000 page “Memoirs of Cleopatra.” For future reference, when one begins to have nightmares about Cleopatra trying to kill you, it is time to put the book down. But the maniac bookworm side of my brain is screaming “You’re almost done!” And I also have been fighting the demons of sore throat, headache, horrible sinus infection, and general apathy towards house/apartment cleaning, bill paying and any other semblance of responsibility. My poor sweet husband has been doing his best to make me feel better, but I’m that tricky sort who doesn’t like to be pampered when they’re ill but left alone in my misery to wallow and feel good about small accomplisments like walking up stairs.

Babies have been coming at us like locusts. In the past six months, three of my friends have had children (ok, six, but they’re married couples and I don’t want to confuse you on the number of infants.) Two of my three best girl friends from college have become pregnant and are due next year. And everywhere I turn, people seem to forget that I’m still adjusting to being married and are forgetting (or don’t know) that I cannot have children and are giving me the winkwinknudgenudge which makes everyone in the room uncomfortable but them. Especially my husband, I think. J-you can correct me if I’m wrong on that aspect.

But the reason I’m having such a hard time blogging isn’t because of lack of material or illness or even the fact that my beloved Apple Mactop is still in the machospital; no, I feel invaded of sorts. I have some very personal things I want to blog about but because of the whole “two becoming one” changes and adjusting to “our space” as opposed to “my space,” and also some very intrusive people in my life as of late…I just can’t bring myself to talk about what’s on my mind. I just don’t want to deal with the reactions and more invasiveness and possible blown-out-of-proportion hurt feelings and anger that will most probably result from talking about my thoughts. So I’m resorting to many book blogs and little blurbs about what’s happening in my life on the surface as opposed to the teeming depths. Maybe I’ll be able to wrench something out for a Christmas blog, but I’m even having trouble with that this year. Unfortunate.

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