I'm not good at resolutions, either at keeping promises that I make to myself, or in wrapping things up neatly when they end and putting them aside or sending them on their way. So I find myself in a strange place with this blog. On the one hand I've resolved to write more, in some capacity, and this is a helpful tool for writing, and I need all the help I can get. On the other, I'm not certain that it isn't time to bring this blog to some sort of resolution, rather than having it sitting here, just sort of rotting away, waiting for a day when I'm bored enough or distracted enough to feel prompted to post.
Like today, when I'm laid up in bed, groggy with congestion, looking at my new old bike, which I bought yesterday and want to play with, to see if I can adjust the seat and handlebars a bit -- but just can't summon up the energy to either do that, or move it downstairs to the bike room. Neither can I quite summon up the energy to follow up my last post with a much belated chronicle of inauguration antics, which were indeed antic, involving threading the mass of my friends through the masses of people flooding the mall, dancing in the streets with polar bears, scoring parade tickets in the grandstands on Pennsylvania Avenue, and being absolutely certain that I was going to lose my toes to frostbite. So, in short, not much progress looks to be made on either resolution today.