Apologetic stream of consciousness

I know the better choice would be to stop apologizing.

But to stop apologizing means to stop feeling guilty, and I don't know if that is really in my constitution.

I recently joked on my Facebook status update that I was on the verge of developing rickets (my favourite vitamin deficiency) by virtue of the increasing amount of my life spent in windowless offices. Granted, there may be little sunlight out there this time of year, but what little there is has to be better than all the staring at concrete walls (and, of course, computer screens) I've been doing lately.

The other day, the Duke joked that it felt like we had a long distance relationship due to my penchant for getting up at the crack of dawn for a day full of assorted attempts at productivity, combined with my ill-timed and scattered efforts to maintain a social life and keep physically active.

I am happy to report I took this Tuesday night off, and we napped together, which is very possibly my new favourite thing in life.

So, yes, same old story as always. I'm busy. It is a tedious thing to repeat, yet I feel I have to do so anyways. 

I don't relish feeling so cut off from this side of my life. I was thinking the other day of how important writing has become in my life, as a way of sorting through my thoughts, of reflecting, of engaged in catharsis without the real life consequences. I feel a little scattered when I don't get my moment to excise these words from my busy little brain. I also feel like I sometimes lose my touch a little in these period of non-writing limbo.

On top of that, I can't help feeling like a bit of a jerk for ignoring everyone else here. In truth, I'm sure I am totally overemphasizing my importance to all of you. I know I understand when someone else stops writing and interacting for a period of time, as we can all empathize with life getting in the way. But I still don't like it when I discover that, marinating in my reader, is a tale of someone I care about going through a hard time or a tragedy or even a tremendous success. I wish I had the time so I wouldn't miss that. Silly enough, the words of all of you have come to mean something to me, and I feel like a bit of a bad friend when I can't even find the time in a month to read them and say hello. 

So, that is the story of my life right now. No comments today, for the first time, because I just want you all to read at face value without the need to reassure or challenge my ridiculous sense of guilt or say any of those wonderful things you tend to say.