![]( some eggs. Medium-sized Missouri eggs, from Missouri chickens. Fine stuff.nnI am sitting here, uploading photos of eggs to my, and preparing to conduct a blog post (fifth post of the day?), as one does, and I briefly have a premonition of: “what the ASS am I doing with my life?”.nntl;dr of that answer: nothing.nnI seriously had an outer-bloggy experience of: “*what*, am I doing this for?” Like, I write (OK, fair enough), and I write daily (no resistance there), five+ times a day (alright…why?), and I put it all on the Internet, for people to read, and to “entertain” them, or perhaps entertain them and myself (this service is performed for *what* cause? And is the means to *what* end?). nnThere’s zero(0) intentions of me stopping blogging. And I genuinely do not think I ever *want* to stop writing (it’s like holding my mental breath when I just “live around” in my life without jotting stuff about it – some paint-drying Hell).nnBut, though the blog bit is definitely routine at this point ~8 years into the daily journals, it’s a rare bird (a rare egg, even!) that I stop and sort of take a bird’s eye (oh the referential innuendo!) view of: “so, *this* is a thing I do. Or perhaps it is THE thing I do? As there isn’t too much else going on anywhere else.”nnAnd though it is true that I feel passed over, unnoticed, and unappreciated by *most* people (online and in real life), I’m grateful for the handful of folks who stop in, continue to stop in, or stop in every once in a while, and also make their presence known through an e-mail (by the way, I am adding my (sub)e-mail link to the signature of blog posts here shortly, so say “hi” if you like).nnAnd though I find some of this (writing) stuff easy (or maybe easiER than some people happen to find it), it’s probably because frequency is the default for me. If one just shits out post after post all the time, “getting better” kind of just occurs without a big struggle. Not to say that I am “good” at writing (but ffs, I probably *am* fairly adequate and distinguishable in the quality of what gets written, and *how* I write – can’t shortsell myself). So, practice makes perfect, or whatever.nnSomeone said in the Chat (during the second Meetup (which I am not sure if we will continue or not?)) that they were “impressed” with the length and frequency of the posts. And I mention this “pat on the back” type of sentiment to A) remind myself that whatever the hell it is that I am doing here is OK, it is fine, and B) as a sort of humbling reminder that it DOESN’T come easy to everyone else. Granted, there are talents in the world that **I** wish **I** had been “blessed” with (::cough:: finance ::cough::), but I am not “savvy” in that regard. So I just “work with what my mama gave me”, and see what the cards read.nnSo, on this eighth paragraph, to go with the eight eggs, I will wrap it up with – writing is fun. It’s a lightweight hobby for some. A more professional occupation for others. And a monumental mountaineering expedition for others still. But I feel all of it (writing) is in my **core**, and it will always go, until forever.nnThanks for readingnn

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