It was 11:22 p.m. when I walked into the apartment.
Another Renegades game was in the books. They won, though they held on to do so. I was, er, OK, but nothing special. I don't expect anyone to ever praise my public address announcing abilities and I get that.
But I had not sat down to write anything and, even driving home, topics escaped me.
What worries me is that I'm repeating things. I liked last night's post about the nerdy statistics but am fairly certain I've written something about that before.
Sure, a writer always wants to tell the stories even if that means telling them again but, especially in the digital age, isn't that what an archive is for?
All 3,684 posted essays (including this one) exist in their glory (or lack thereof) on both the Blogger and WordPress platforms.
Yet, still, who am I really hurting if I repeat things? That means giving the stories new life sometimes and that's not so bad.
So, here I sit, babbling about this while licking my wounds at a sparsely read post about a topic that isn't going to interest a large group.
I get in a rhythm and hit certain things. Lately, it's all about travel. It will turn to something else with that something quite possibly being high school football or broadcasting as we're getting closer to hitting the air again.
Not soon enough for my taste.
So this is where my brain is with just 26 precious minutes remaining until a new day. If I want to keep this foolish post-per-day streak going then I better wrap up and press the publish button.
And with that, I feel just exhausted so I will close.
Not all posts are lined with gold.
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