Normally I would have written a couple of dozen blog posts by this point in the year. The start of the Red Sox season. The birthday. My heartfelt apologies for the lack of posts. Faithful readers know the drill.
But this year has been different. We’re in our new house, living our new life. Writing has not fit in.
The past ten years (and really most of the 29 before them) have been times of transition. Dotcommer to traveler and teacher to mild-mannered grownup. To boyfriend, fiance and husband in scandalously few months. To homeowner. To father. And again. To entrepreneur: author, developer, salesman and janitor. Now to respectable member of a community and startup executive.
I’m not sure where that leaves writing. We joke of the many things I’m planning to do in my infinite free time. Most of them ain’t happening. 39 is not 24, nor 16. Time is limited, and I need to drop some projects to excel at others. More on that soon.
But for now, I’m still alive, all is well, and I promise to blog more regularly from now on.