Retrospective in Retrospect: The Long Term Effects of 2017 on a Weak Blogger’s Mind
I tried to write a 2017 retrospective blog post and failed. Which was fitting, since 2017 in a nutshell equals: Sucked. Big Suck.
Lately, since November at least, I am too mentally exhausted to write anything more than a few sentences at a time. And the paltry words I do manage to tack together into barely intelligible syntax are usually such pitifully lame excuses for social commentary, they are virtually unfit for any social media platform of any consequence.
So they all end up on my Facebook page. Along with pretty photographs taken by someone with a better camera and photography skills than me, transposed with inspirational words written by someone with a better attitude than mine–usually someone long dead who is not trapped in the national nightmare that is my country right now. And adorable doggy videos of course.
Now some folks are obviously stimulated by controversy and absolutely seem to love the Reality TV/Talk Radio/Tabloid TV model of governing our new POTUS has invented, but personally, I find it exhausting.
Who needs all that drama? Oh right…the twenty four hour news cycle. I almost forgot about them.
I used to shake my head at the Gaddafi’s, Amin’s and Ahmadinejad’s of the world and thank my lucky stars that here in America, we elect reasonable, intelligent, principaled men as president. Oh how awful it must be, I thought, to have a terrorist, a despot or a fool in charge of your country. Who could imagine a fool in charge of America? I know– unimaginable!
I am so in awe of my blogger friends who are still bopping along out there in spite of it all, writing blog posts worth publishing, their wits and writing skills intact, their ambition unrelinquished. Sometimes after spending time on my Word Press Reader browsing my favorite sites and reading my favorite bloggers’ posts, I feel so energized! I’m inspired to write my own post. Until I do.
My mind is a burned out cinder. My heart is a cold lump of clay. My fingers are wooden, no longer flesh and blood, incapable of transmuting my feelings into any worthwhile little anecdotes, let alone seven hundred and fifty words of easily digestible prose.
I sit with my fingers poised over the keyboard, type a few lines, back space, delete, back space, back space, delete, blah-blah-blah bullshit, bullshit, WAAAA WAAAA WAAAAAA! is about all I can write these days. So I end up either staring at my foggy reflection in the office nook window, critiquing my bad haircut, or with my head in my hands slouched in front of the laptop like a boiled shrimp, feeling lousy…critiquing my WTF was I thinking? ugly Poindexter glasses. YEESH.
AND my posture is atrocious.
So I think I’ll go do some yoga poses while comtemplating my choice of haircuts and glasses. Then, on to the doggy videos.
Happy 2018 All!