It feels worse than it looks

I haven't published a post in 11 months, although there are are many posts written, in fits and starts, that will likely languish forever in draft form.

And there really isn't anything new to report that is worth posting now; as always, it seems like quite a bit has happened, yet nothing has really changed. Or maybe quite a bit has changed, but nothing has really happened. I am back under my old suburban skies, back where I started, with nothing to show for the last 6 years. It's hard even typing that, let alone saying it out loud.

For a little while there, I was going to keep track of (significant) things that happened during my 33rd year. But, as with all of my lists, it was forgotten. Nothing in my head ever seems as interesting when I start writing it down.

I was feeling jittery a little while ago... well, I've been feeling that way for a while. It's like I've been having one long (year-long) case of the Sunday night blues. Thank goodness for The Golden Girls. There is something quite soothing about watching it at 12:30 a.m. If only Little House on the Prairie was on--that would really settle me down.

Update: I am now posting some bits that have been sitting in draft for awhile, so that first sentence no longer makes sense.