The Blog Dilemma

My refrigerator is dying a slow death. Walking back to my room, having just emptied and refilled the Brita Filter (a skill which I alone seem to possess) I can still hear my refrigerator moaning and tumbling like a full washing machine. In my room, sucking on a Calms Forte, a homeopathic remedy for stress and passive worrying, and which, by nature excels at calming, I can still hear the damn thing. Every few minutes the motor works up enough momentum to rock the whole apartment. Though i'm not hungry (feeling not so great after a nice tasting but cold tuna melt from a local diner) every sway of my room compels me towards the fridge. At this very moment there is a nicely cooked cut of chicken, deciding whether or not to go bad. "Stay alive," I say, "I will find you!" I should go check on it.

The chicken is fine and I am in the kitchen now. The pull of the whining refrigerator was enough to rip any man with a soul out of the confines of his room. Besides, writing is an energetic process that should be done in a seated position not lying on one's back in bed. The kitchen table will work much better from here on out. The bed is a place of much more pleasurable and necessary endeavors than writing, and it is best not to confuse the lot. Additionally, this allows me access to the refrigerator. My presence, I think, is soothing to it. The tuna melt, which had such severe consequences earlier seems to have been mollified by the pathetic sputtering of its keeper. All in all this seems a far superior place for writing. This brings me to a point.

There are commitments that must be made when taking on a month-long-daily-blog-posting marathon. Some of these commitments are more obvious than other, though all of them, obvious or not, are necessary in the making of a successful enterprise. The most obvious of these commitments are the allotment of time and thought. Time is, for this blogger, of the essence. At least one hour per post for writing and revising (maybe only thirty minutes if the Hills is on). Second, thought is equally as important, albeit a bit more passive and persistent than it's brethren. Both time and thought are necessary components of blogging, things which when faced with the prospect of posting something every day of this month I assented to freely. The unseen commitments, which i unknowingly agreed to with my subscription, include some of my favorite things. Drinking, for one, almost certainly rules out blogging for that day, and in some special cases for the next day as well. Sex, also, overrules the prospect of blogging and rightfully so. Weekends and free time, too, have started to infringe on my blog time. This all sounds backwards, I know, but that is the commitment of the full-time blog champion; no booze, no sex, significantly less free time. So get out there bloggers, and write your sober, lonely, celibate memoirs.