Miracles do happen

I haven't been posting lately.

Obviously.

Maybe it's because I didn't have anything to say. But more likely it has to do with not wanting to say anything. It's weird. I "write" for a living, and then I have to force myself to write anything that doesn't relate to work directly. In other words, anything that's fun. Not that work isn't fun lately. It actually has been.

I always wonder if it would be different if I were, say, a steel mill worker. I spend all day doing the things a steel mill worker does (the research that went into this must be astounding to you right now), and then goes home, crack open a can of beer, and then say, "Man, I can't wait to weld some more steel in the garage."

I think it's safe to say that mill workers probably can't stand the sight of iron or metal of any sort; like a 'Nam vet who hyperventilates (hard word to spell, by the way) every time a balloon pops or an Asian person acknowledges him.

Okay, maybe not.

All I'm saying is that if you do something for a living that also happens to be what you love--even though you're getting "paid" for it--you tend to spend less time doing it because you do it so much at work as it is.

Maybe a better analogy would the male porn star who acciodently lost control of his, uh, stuff right before the thrilling conclusion.

Maybe not.

Maybe it's the poker player who goes on a streak at the practice tables, but can't pull a decent card when it really matters...he wasted his good luck on the stuff that didn't really count.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend.