not at all

This will not be one of those posts you see on people's blogs that make you think, "Why is this blogger even bothering?"

This couldn't possibly be the kind of post that sheepishly apologizes for having been so lax on updating the blog, and then muses, in a predictable fashion, about what might be preventing attentiveness to the blog.

Who, I ask, would be banal enough to actually write a tedious explanation about how busy the blogger has been, especially with work, so much so that, when time makes itself available, the last thing the blogger wants to do is natter on about recent surprises, foibles, failures, confusions, ironies, memories, dreams, or confessions?

You will not feel embarrassed for me as I self-consciously describe how the last post, a poem about depression, makes me feel like I must drum up something wickedly funny or artfully observant to clear the blog air.

Really, there will be no need to post a comment that says, "Glad to have you back!" or "Took you long enough . . ." or "That's okay, Chuck, we all get stuck every once in a while."

You will not have to cringe, think I have run out of ideas, hope that I get out of my rut, wonder if I am actually boring, or think ill of me because I have ended the post with the two-word pseudo-sentence "More later."

No, no -- not this post.