It is 8:38 AM Eastern Standard Time, and I feel the stress of the blog. I don’t know if anyone realizes this, but I feel a great deal of pressure to write every day. I committed myself to this task, and I never thought I would really do it. Seriously, devote an hour or two a day to writing? I mean come on– I have a full-time job, a family, a social life (to some degree).
But then, people started reading and commenting. A few people have even said that reading my blog is the highlight of their day.
Really, the highlight? So much pressure comes with that awesome compliment. I do not want to disappoint, and I am sure some days I do. Not every post can appeal to every person. The real pressure, however, is the writing— every single day! On days like today, when we have company coming at noon, when I have to clean the house, when I want to try to fit in a little workout, and when we are going to the 4:00 Indians game, I feel the pressure of the blog.
Nonetheless, I sit with the intention of writing. I am at the computer. The lighting is exactly the way I like it. No one is bothering me with banal questions about what to wear or when is lunch (They ate breakfast about 35 minutes ago, seemingly the lunch question is in full play right now). I am ready to feel the spark of artistry.
Apparently, my creativity is not working today. He must have taken the day off; it is Memorial Day, after all. He’s probably thinking about the feedbag he is going to strap on during the cookout, or maybe he is thinking about the “Happy Birthday Carson” message that will be on the jumbo-tron during the game. Either way, he’s taken the day off.
Thus, I am writing to say I have nothing to write about today. I was a little unnerved by this thought, but then I thought about it in relation to the NBA season. You see, the NBA season is ridiculously long. Playoffs are in full swing, but the season won’t end for another month. In all of that time, not every player is going to be able to play every minute of every game.
In the scheme of my 366 day season, I am closing in on the end of the first half. I have made some goals along the way, hit a couple of free throws, and made a few sweet 3-pointers. But I am tired. I am in need of a water break, a pep talk, a bag of ice. I have been beaten up pretty badly by Creative Trouble, and he thinks he has gotten the best of me, but he hasn’t. Inspiration may be sidelined with a leg cramp, but I know he will be back in play soon. Yes, I am tired, but I cannot be derailed. I am not LeBron James. I will not miss the alley oop. I will not let down my team, my city, my fans.
Oh yes, the championship trophy will be mine– in 223 more posts! (Yikes, that’s a little daunting.)