This sentence has been eleven months in the making.
For nearly a year, our publisher has been pushing for Boise Weekly's editorial staff to blog. I've been completely on board with the idea and the reasoning behind it since day one, and for a very brief time, I obsessed nightly over what I would write when the time came. And then the time came, and I got stage fright. It was suddenly like the entire world was watching me pee and no matter how bad I wanted to let it rip, I ... just ... couldn't ... do it. But I convinced myself that no one really reads these things anyway. Come on, who really wants to suffer through my rantings more than once a week when BW hits stands?
Problem solved, I rationalized. No one will even pay attention.
And then I realized there's almost nothing I can do every single day. At the time, the publisher and editor both were emphatic that all bloggers should scribe daily. I'll be honest, at least one thing every day infuriates me enough to want to shove a sharp pencil into humanity's ear and drain out all the world's stupidity. And then to write about it.
So it wasn't for lack of material that I had my doubts about performing every 24 hours. It's just that there is not a single thing I can do every day. Sure, I try to remember deodorant every day. Sometimes I fail. Mostly I remember to brush my teeth every day. Mostly. Underwear? Yeah, I do change my underwear every single day, but there's a real, inherent need to for that, and blogging just doesn't quite have the same necessary quality to it.
It's not an issue I've entirely resolved, but like any self-respecting adult, I've accepted my flaws, and I'm prepared to do my best to blog if not daily then at least pretty often.
And let me say that I came to that conclusion without a day left to spare because the publisher recently requested my presence in the blogosphere on behalf of the ol' BW. So here I am. Up on the chopping block without an editor. Take your best swing.