Blogging for a living makes blogging for myself less fun. But really, that shouldn't be the case. Really, it should be the reverse. I have more experience blogging (aka writing random thoughts as fast as you can and putting them into a mildly interesting and relevant context, with varying degrees of success). I am more capable of cranking things out. I'm less afraid (this could be a bad thing). It is vaguely reminiscent of how I felt about personal modesty after I had a baby. That word, modesty, lost all meaning to me. Is it bad that I equate blogging with pooping in public, which is basically what happens when you give birth? (you can read about my true loss of modesty here).
So maybe I need to recommit myself to this blog (and the gym, and most of my friends, and my new novel, man I have work to do). It began as a place for me to practice writing for an audience. Even if that audience was just my mom. Now that I write for a large audience most of the time, maybe I have to reconsider the purpose of this blog. I think that is something that I will need to do as I write, as I get back to it and discover what it is that I enjoy about it. What do I take away? What do I bring to it?
