I’ve been caught in a bit of a slump lately, not really knowing what to blog about. I guess it happens to everyone but you never realize how silly you feel until it happens to you. Luckily, I came up with a great idea on how to get me out of the slump. I would look through my old posts for some inspiration. Original, I know.
The post I did about our trip to Rome was quite fun and I thought about doing one of those. That could be fun, right? I’d tell you about killer scooters and losing my wallet and you’d laugh and say “shit happens”. But then when I started writing I realized that M and I haven’t actually been on any trip lately, so that was sort of out of the question.
Then I remembered the one about the pile of burning money. That would be fun, right? You’d ask me something interesting and I’d make up some bullshit story about running towards or away from the burning money. But then as I started writing I realized that it was an “Ask Ziva” kind of post and people just aren’t asking me any interesting stuff.
But then I remembered the Easter grass thing that I did way back in, well around Easter time. That was fun, wasn’t it? Something we could all share, a little miracle being born, and then invaded by cheap plastic toys. I started writing, but soon realized that I would have to grow something before I could write about it. And since it’s obviously not Easter now, I had to find something else to grow. Something that grows rather quickly and is pretty to look at. At first I thought about tulips, but the neighbor threw rocks at me when I tried to steal her tulip bulbs. Then I thought about strawberries, but M wasn’t too fond of the idea of turning our balcony into a vegetable garden. Then it hit me, the perfect thing to grow; weed! But apparently one of my nosy neighbors saw me bring up the lamp thingy that I needed and the little baby marijuana plants because the next thing I knew I had a cop knocking on my door, and then there were handcuffs and jail and bail and blah blah blah. So yeah, that didn’t work out.
So now I’m sitting here again, with nothing to write about. Could I be more boring? *