Goin' viral . . .

It is Monday and I have posted three days in a row so I planned on skipping today. The calendar was full all the way to eight or nine tonight. However, it seems that some sort of bug has hitched a ride in my bloodstream, and the results are not something to discuss in polite company, leaving me for the most part flat of my back, except an occasional necessary trip. I am working, but it's time for a break. Under these circumstances there's not much to do on a break.

I noticed that I recently passed the 500 posts mark on the One Day at a Time blog. Had I been writing on one of the eight or so great American novels I started (some just have titles), I would have at least one in the bank by now. Maybe this afternoon.

A couple of housekeeping matters (not my literal house, but the blog). If you want to be notified when a new post goes up, click on the appropriate button on the right where it says "subscribe to blog" or send me your email address. Otherwise I will continue to post the link on facebook, which I feel guilty about, subjecting the facebook universe to my neediness to be read. Until I remember what everybody else subjects me to, then I don't feel so bad. My name is Bob and I have been a bad facebook friend. I have never helped on a farm or with the mafia or accepted my gift of flowers or cupid cards, nor have I sent them, and I never repost even in the face of going to hell. I usually ignore such requests or comment sarcastically. My soul is tortured about this.

Second, I wrote the intro to the blog when I first started. I apologize for the paucity of posts regarding edible plants as proposed. More guilt. I will work on that.

All of this internet and social networking means of communicating is fascinating, but, I have noticed, it can become a formidable source of guilt, such as the aforementioned failure to fulfill the promise of posts regarding edible plants and facebook callousness.

Or the failure to reply to emails and texts promptly. No one really believes all of those messages didn't get through.

A couple of years ago I signed up for a Twitter account. I have yet to utter a tweet. Occasionally I get a message from some random European woman who says she is following me on Twitter. Bless her heart. If she's following me she is standing still. I am such a jerk.

Not to mention offending people with what I think and write. I write a lot about my faith and a lot about politics. My faith tells me to be kind and compassionate. My politics tells me to be less so. It is a tough balancing act.

Well, it feels good to confess, to get all that weight off of my back.

Now if I could really get off my back that would be good.

Gotta run . . .

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