This morning’s NHBPM prompt isn’t motivating me this morning.  It was to imagine my life is a TV show, and what would it be about.  I could pretty much cut and paste yesterday’s post and fulfill that prompt, so instead, I’m figured I’d just spew out what was rattling around in my head as I commuted into the city at the butt-crack of dawn this morning.  Bear with me – I’m not fully caffeinated yet.

This is not a life I would have chosen.  I know – duh, right?  But I don’t mean life with Tim.  I mean the life of a blogger, spewing pretty much whatever rattles around in my head out onto the interwebs for the entire world to read if they so choose.  I’d thought about blogging before I started this one.  I even had a website where my family would come to see pictures of the kids, and read my occasional rants about whatever fascinated or irritated me at that time.  But it never lasted.  It was just something to do, with no real purpose.

I expected this blog to be similar.  It was suggested I journal and since I sit in front of a computer all day long, at least five days a week, working on websites, it seemed to make the most sense to have a browser window open to a place where I could write a sentence or two whenever the moment struck.  I type a heck of a lot faster than I write.  Always have.  So I created this little space intending to pour out what I wanted to say, never expecting anyone else would be interested.

So when people became interested, it felt strange.  I got a sense of fear of the responsibility to say something that mattered to someone else – that could possibly help someone else feel like they weren’t the only someone going through what they’re going through.  And you started to comment and email me back.  It became dialogue.  And, frankly, it’s the dialogue that keeps me with the browser window open most days of the week.  I’m sure that without you sharing your thoughts and ideas and feelings with me, I would have abandoned this blog a long time ago.  The unexpected benefit of starting my journal here is that now I feel less alone too.  Knowing that you’re out there, and you understand what I’m talking about helps me get from day to day.  And that has turned this from just a record of my thoughts to a place where I hope you feel part of a community.  Because I know I do.

Awww – group hug, everyone!