Apparently I'm not writing the important things, so I'll blather.
Apparently I'm not doing the daily tasks, so I Facebook.
Apparently I'm not keeping straight, so I visit my chiropractor.
Apparently I'm not keeping my dishes washed, so I shrug.
Apparently I was trying to be poetic but I keep falling on my face again and again and the backspace button is my new best friend and apparently I decided to forget about being poetic and, rather, write one big run-on sentence about nothing in particular while I notice the clock and think to myself that it's time to go pick up Ella and why am I still sitting here and then I answer myself and say that it's because I actually FEEL like writing something and that hasn't happened in so long I almost forgot how to do it and so I reply again that it's ok and Ella is fine to wait for two minutes with her friends outside the school under the supervision of teachers while I spew a bit of useless information in a run-on sentence but realize that it may be useless to the casual reader, but vital to my own mental health because apparently useless information is dripping from my brain like a leaky faucet and it must come out.
Apparently I'm not finished with my blog, so I smile.