Just Because I’m Not Writing Doesn’t Mean There’s Nothing to Write About

You’ve heard it before from me and countless others. Just because I’m not writing doesn’t mean there’s nothing to write about.

Thursday I helped one of the Spaceward Games teams repair their propulsion system (I fixed the leaky flow-meters that made up part of the liquid-cooling system for a 10-kilowatt bank of IR lasers).

Friday my youngest brother was in town demonstrating that he is not the boring kind of accountant (he is the kind of accountant whose research other accountants look at and ask “are you sure this is accounting?”)

Saturday I played in the Hordes Stampede tournament at Dragon’s Keep, and took third place (or thereabouts) and the “Beast Hunter” medal. I played with an untuned, untested army list, and played really, really well.

Sunday was church, which, since I’m the financial secretary for the local congregation of Saints, meant that in addition to the usual worship services I got to balance the books. Far be it from me to make fun of accountants — the books balanced, everything is in perfect order, and I took quite a bit of pleasure in that.

Monday… back to work, scripted a great week of comics (is it a spoiler if I say there are hints of a very interesting Tagon back-story?) and stirred the dry, thickening skin under, revealing the quietly simmering mess in a pot of Wikipedia politics (I may blog about that in more detail, if only to make sure somebody keeps stirring.)

Tuesday, banged out that week of comics in pencil and ink, and got to stay up late playing with my 4-year-old (he took a nap, and got to skip everyone else’s bedtime).

Each of these events merits a full-page blog entry of its own, and I kept meaning to write those entries, but when I sat down to write I realized I needed to get up and do whatever was coming next.

My life would seem more interesting to everyone else if I could strike some sort of balance between writing about it and living it, but more and more I’m finding that, when time permits, I prefer to allow my life to seem completely uninteresting to the rest of the world, and absolutely, fascinatingly packed with all the big and little things that make it wonderful for me and a few first-hand observers.

5 thoughts on “Just Because I’m Not Writing Doesn’t Mean There’s Nothing to Write About”

    1. It’s also surprising how dull “interesting” can be. My laser-cooling-system work, for instance, was only interesting in context. In practice I was grinding some plastic valves to fit in some slots, and then epoxying them in place. It was repetitive, messy, and loud.

  1. I always feel vaguely guilty when something interesting happens and I don’t blog about it. Like I have an obligation to share everything with LJ. I’m taking on your perspective: I’d rather live it and not have time to write about it.

    OTOH, this ends up with most of my posts being brief whines about stuff that doesn’t go well.

    **feels around** Yep, still feel vaguely guilty.

  2. I don’t mind too much that I’m not writing many entries, except that I’d rather be encouraging some conversation with my friends. And if I had more free time, I’d be doing just that.

    In the meantime, I barely have enough time to keep up with my friends’ journals, and join in those conversations. But I try.

    And in the meantime, I’ll just keep seeming boring in LJ, as well.

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