Damn, I’m Boring

Look­ing back at my recent entries, I find that I have a very bor­ing life.

I nat­ter on about house­hold stuff, lit­tle dai­ly inci­dents that are part of the busi­ness of life. My fam­i­ly, the crit­ters, etc. 

I post news sto­ries, quotes, and poet­ry that are more com­pelling than what I write myself.

Yes, there was a time when my jour­nal was far more inter­est­ing. My life was more inter­est­ing, in the Chi­nese curse sense of the word.

I have to remind myself to make “real” posts now. 

Dif­fi­cult things do hap­pen, but they’re less com­mon than they were a few years back. I’m sel­dom ready to talk about them for a good long time, and then it seems sil­ly to kvetch about them.

Right now, I’m sit­ting on the couch doing some minor account­ing. shad­owkatt is read­ing one of the Liaden nov­els while re-for­mat­ting her hard dri­ve for a sys­tem rebuild. sam­bear has braved the rain to fetch Chi­nese food, in accor­dance with fam­i­ly tra­di­tion, before doing more work on one of the Lin­ux machines. curiousmay9 is on the road vis­it­ing her fam­i­ly. The cats are cud­dled up sleep­ing on var­i­ous sur­faces. The dog is pon­der­ing anoth­er trip out to bark at the world.

A fire in the hearth would be just per­fect, but we haven’t had the chim­ney inspected/cleaned since buy­ing the house this spring, so it’s unwise.

This strange feel­ing? It’s con­tent­ment. I’m hap­py. None of the prob­lems in my life are insur­mount­able. I’m blessed in this life we’ve built. 

I wish you the same.