I don't know.

Each day for the past few days I have logged into Blogger, clicked "New Post" and stared at this empty text box.

I don't know what to say. I just stare and stare at this off-white box of possibilities and have no idea what to fill it with that isn't rage, anger and frustration.

Don't get me wrong, things are way better than they were, but they aren't good. They aren't good by any stretch of my imagination. As I've said before, they weren't great before I got sick, and now they are worse because every problem I had before I got sick a year ago was just put on hold for a year. Now I'm sitting here with all those problems amplified by a year of neglect and more, newer, unchangeable problems.

I've been working a few hours a week chasing down possible pirates for Donna. That's pretty okay. I went to a job fair and instead of being laughed out of the room, I got a "Let me get back to you next week". That's pretty okay too. I'm doing 15 to 20 mins a day on my stationary bike most days a week. (At least 4, sometimes 7) Again, that's pretty okay, but completely against everything I would've done before I got sick. Ditto yoga and other stretching as well.

But it is working. I have been out doing stuff outside for days and I have used my cane once in the past 13 days. That's awesomesauce, but only because it's better than the alternative, and I'd rather not have the alternative.

What I really want is a reason to get up in the morning and 99% of the time I am not that reason. "Just because" will never be a motivation to do anything but shop for shoes and makeup.

(Side note: Made my first pilgrimage to the new Sephora Vancouver and have learned two things: 1. I can't go anywhere near the place until I get a job. 2. When I can afford to go there, I cannot go without adult supervision.)

I'm stitching almost daily now. I'm writing daily. I recently discovered ToastedCheese.com and have fallen in love with their monthly calendar of writing prompts and on Sunday I will attempt very first Sunday Brunch prompted writing exercises. Last Sunday's were:

1. Use the following words: touch, bullet, newer, himself, bright (10 min)
2. Write about something you can do with a ball. (10 min.)
3. Write about pockets (or Pocky). (10 min.)

I look forward to trying this week's. I think it will be a challenge.

I have been trying to balance my desire to turn inward and isolate because I'm such a fucking freak, and getting outside of my house and myself because if I neglect myself my disability will get worse.

But I have to admit that one of my biggest obstacles to posting this is that I am boring. I am really, really boring. I declined to join foursquare.com because I don't go anywhere, do anything, or have any money to enjoy the finest restaurants and entertainment this city has to offer. I know that I am boring because I am always bored. I hate being boring. Being boring used to be a fate worse than death.

(Though, that probably explains my previous life's questionable taste in men.)

I write because I am bored, and I've been hesitant to share my boredom with my little corner of the world. It's taken me an hour to write this and I already regret it.