What's Wrong With Me?

RIGHT. As if I could answer that question in a single blog.

No, but seriously. No one else seems to have trouble writing these things except for me. Why can't I just talk about my day? Mull things over, philosophical-like, and not worry so much about always being quirky or funny or inventive? Maybe I have issues. "Maybe," he says.

Screw it all to heck. I'm going to start writing about my life. No more killer pizzas or dusty crannies or plays on words. Well, okay, there are still going to be plays on words - let's be honest. But they'll have meaning behind them.

This is my mid-year's resolution. It's time to fix me.