photo credit /pɪgstaɪævnjuː/
I know I’m a bit late to the party, but I just fell in love with dooce.com.
I’m in a conundrum now. I want to write like her so bad it hurts. My wife encourages me when I get jealous about people’s writings. “You do write well, and you are funny.” I think she’s just humoring me until she says things like “you just don’t let yourself do it very often.”
She’s referring to the fact that I write on business and geekery and that I don’t have fun with it. A few times, here and there, the occasional good time comes along. But most of the time it’s kinda … well, sterile. Maybe it was all the Mountain Dew I drank as a kid. And when I say kid I mean 26 years old.
I can’t help it though. That text editor opens and I start thinking of code and logic. It’s a scary switch that just turns on. It really freaks me out sometimes, actually.
Did I mention I hate New Years resolutions? So, this isn’t one of those dastardly things, but I do want to commit to attempting to maybe possibly working on writing better.
I’m not sure how the content will change on this blog in the next month or so, but it just might. So, if you don’t mind, bear with me as I try to become less crotchety again. I tried it once and then just fell back to my toothless, mothball-smelling, golf-loving, bridge-playing ways. It’s a struggle, but I’m going to give it a shot.
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