What Am I Supposed To Say

Did you ever just have a moment where your brain just flat out turned into that fuzz that used to come on the television after the Late, Late Show back in the early eighties? You'd be watching some cheeseball movie you never had an inkling to watch before and fell asleep during, only to be awoken by the loud CHHHSHHH of a live ant race.

I am there at this moment. I sit here and realize as I am about to enter my weekly Sunday rambling that no one really gives a shit. No one cares what I had for breakfast this morning, or that I went on a 150 mile motorcycle excursion today and loved it. No one cares that last month I celebrated five years sober. No one cares that my daughter, who is now 15, finally came home to live with me after those five years.

But that's okay. I am very grateful for the people who do follow my blog. I know that there is no overnight success in my writing cards and I am okay with that.

I have wanted to chronicle my life for a while now. It is more interesting than a lot of movies I have seen. The thing is, I didn't want to write my whole life story for a few reasons:

1) I am only 38 years old. Yes, only.
2) My life has only been exciting in a couple blocks.
3) I am not famous so no one cares about my life story.

So instead of writing about the whole thing, I picked the part that was brutal and that, if people read it, could actually learn a thing or two on how to pinpoint unmanageability in their own lives. Maybe since I like to help people, God gave me these hurdles to jump and help others.

I did an outline last night and I gotta say... wow. I really got lucky in a lot of spots.