I have not been blogging.

There are my thought about the Boston bombers, which are still tangled.

There are my thoughts about my birthday, and my age, and where I am in my life, which are melancholy and whiny, verging on the morose.

There are my thoughts about other things going on in my  life, which I don’t feel comfortable sharing in open space.

There is other writing that I am doing for other purposes, which will see the light of day in other contexts, perhaps. (Not a context in which any of you are likely to see it.  I am not writing the great American novel.  It would be for a very specific audience.)

There is the cursor on my computer, which is given with no notice to become non-responsive and jump around on the screen and randomly throw me into the Dashboard.  If any one has had this problem with their Macs, and fixed it, let me know.  The genius at the Apple Store checked the trackpad, which is fine, and I did a disk verification, and the disk is fine, and I have reset the PRAM, which seemed to work for all of half a day. It can make writing even simple things difficult.

And, finally, there is work.  I have been expressly forbidden to blog about work for some very good reasons, which I may explain when the job is done. (I do want to say, however, that hearing fax machines through noise canceling headphones hurts.)

So, all in all, not blogging right now.

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