whatever you want it to mean: ready or not

Last night my sister confirmed that my 'blog has become boring.

This wasn't exactly a huge revelation. I know that I'm having a hard time being creative.

There's just not much interesting going on right now. Even my trip to Maine was nothing more than a diversion from what's become a pretty mundane existence.

Oh I could write some shit. I get into these little moods and sometimes I do write some shit. Those of you who read this 'blog late last night or early this morning may have seen such an entry. I got irritated and wrote about it. Then this morning I deleted the entry. The thing is, I'm not sure, deep down, if I was actually irritated with her or with myself. I'm not sure if it was the mistreatment that bothered me, or the possibility that my reaction to it was actually part of a much larger problem. A problem that I often think I've pushed away. A 900-pound gorilla.

So I deleted the entry, and in doing so, made my 'blog more boring than it was.

I don't like being boring, any more than I like being bored, but when I remember the things that have injected interest into my life over the last several months, I have to admit, boring is a bit of a relief.

Plus, there are things looming on the horizon that should provide interest for me and for you readers. Things that I'd like to say I'm prepared for, but I don't even know what's going to happen. I coined the term dreadicipation for what I've been feeling, and I think it's a pretty good word for my mood most of the time.

I spent a good chunk, nearly 40 years, of my life living in the present. I spent a good chunk of the last few months living in the past. These days I look to the future. I look for answers to questions that have been nagging at me.

When will I feel whole again, and when I do, what kind of person will I be? Am I the phoenix, about to rise from the flames as if nothing had happened, or am I the butterfly, struggling to escape from my cocoon and try out my new wings?