It turns out that trying to get everything into the computer or onto paper takes just about all the time I have. Having written that, I realize how foolish it must look. "Everything?" Haven't you noticed that there's a perpetual motion machine in your head? Stick your toe out to trip it up and make it stop? No Way. Some people may hope to drug or drink it into slowing down at least, but that's only a temporary solution. My efforts for a rest drive me to try to get words to help--just by putting them down so I can read them back to myself and decide if they might be useful, comforting, amusing, educational, or offer a leg up to somebody's creative genie. Besides, if I don't know something, I have to find out about it. As for opinion: I need to write to find out what I think.
This situation is relatively new for me, and I've no doubt is connected to age. After a certain amount of time has passed, the most insulated or self-absorbed personality is bound to discover there's stuff he or she knows now. I wish I could save somebody else the trouble of discovering them the way I did: by accident, or by finally being open to the message. So the blog is a duty and is becoming more of a necessity. Naturally, I really hope someone will want to read something else I've written if they read this.
Enough of this mental meandering. I have a deadline for a newsletter and one for my review and an essay for the webzine www.seniorwomen.com. Besides, there are about three more contests I'd like to enter...