What do I have to say today?

Last night, Mel asked me, “How do you decide what to blog about?” And after thinking for a second, I said, “Well, I just sit quietly each morning and ask, ‘What do I have to say today?’ And then I write it down.”

Some mornings, this is easy – my life is full of funny anecdotes, witty words, cheerful hope. Other days, I have a heavier burden weighing on my chest, and writing about it can be both challenging and therapeutic. Sometimes, it’s just the letter X – and it is my self-declared duty to figure out some direction to take it.

But today, all is quiet. The phone isn’t ringing, and I haven’t received any urgent emails. It’s kind of cold in the lobby here at work, so I’m wrapped in my green coat and thinking about microwaving some water to make hot tea. The mechanical pencil that I keep in my planner has a rubber grip on it, and it’s “sweating” some sort of oil onto my calendar pages – this bothers me. My hair is freshly dyed, dark and silky, and yet it doesn’t cover up my desperate need for a haircut. In a few minutes, I will balance my checkbook, like I do every day. I have eaten approximately 12 Altoids, and now I am chewing a piece of gum. Men will never comprehend the injustice of pantyhose. I think of the nightmare that I had last night, and the nightmare that I had a few weeks ago. I think of when I was younger and we had rabbits in hutches in the backyard. I think of my friend who threw up her breakfast this morning, and my friend who is officially in love, and my friend who is becoming less and less of a friend. My heart aches for the Townes.

What do I have to say today?

So much. So little. If only I knew.