I go through my day, and as you'd expect, things happen. Sometimes interesting, usually not. Before 2006, I'd react like a normal person and absently ponder whatever the occurrence was. Since 2006, however, I elaborately construct and arrange the thoughts and events of my life into blog-like sound bytes and printable sentences.
How many times have I seen my neighbour walk by my house rocking her Nordic Walking poles and thought "Good for her that she's getting her exercise but it sure looks funny" only to mentally re-arrange that little thought into a long-winded blog entry cruelly mocking what I so obviously don't understand. Okay, not exactly cruel but you get my drift.
It's so weird. I never seem to have passing thoughts anymore. Everything turns out to be blog fodder or at least re-worded in my head to sound more bloggy. Sometimes not even in my head. In fact I have half written sentences; little seeds of blogs; everywhere. In my iPod, on the PC in notebook, in emails written to myself, at my bedside... loose scraps of paper with crazy random stuff on them are everywhere. I just peeked over at the closest one and it says: "Archie's that have Jughead liking girls. Really?!". Your guess is as good as mine.
Blogging has changed me right down to my juicy little brain and it can be exhausting. Huh. I must be a real writer. I'm actually suffering for my "art". Yes, I'm calling blogging art. Deal with it.