Archive for May, 2015


The Three Blog Rule

At least three blogs per month. That’s the rule.

It wasn’t always the rule. For years it just occurred organically, without me noticing it at all. But somewhere along the line I realized that I’d never actually posted fewer than three blogs in a calendar month, and from then on it became a rule.

Even after it became a rule, it was an easy rule to follow for a long time. Even when I was pretty dry on ideas, I was usually able to come up with three decent ones over the course of 30 days.

Look at 2015 though: Every month other than April has an entry posted on the last day of the month. That’s not coincidence. That’s me scrambling to get a third entry up there before the calendar flips over. Occasionally I’ve even had to fudge the timestamp on a blog so that although posted at 1:00 AM on the first of a month it would appear to have been posted at 11:00 PM on the 30th of the previous month. It’s not exactly honest, but it keeps me satisfied.

This month takes the cake though. Never before have I had to scramble to post two entries on the last day of the month to meet the quota. It’s ridiculous really.

There are a number of possible reasons for why this has happened:

It could just be an anomaly, as I spent the first 17 days of this month abroad and started a new job almost immediately after.

It could be that I’ve found other outlets for my thoughts besides posting them unfiltered on the far reaches of the Internet.

It could be that after nearly 10 years, the well is finally starting to run dry.

I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s a combination of all those factors and more.

In any case, maybe the three blog per month rule has outlived its usefulness. If I’m scrambling to get an entry in before the “deadline”, I’m not really being completely genuine, am I? And if I’m not being genuine, what the heck is the use of this place anyhow? It’s not like anyone reads this drivel anymore.

I’m not sure how I feel right now.

I mean, I know for sure that I’m not feeling well at the moment. But I don’t know whether this is a temporary blip in my mental state or the beginning of something more significant that’s going to take me a few months to pull out of.

Right now it feels like the latter, and that scares me because I’ve been through it twice before and those periods were the worst of my life thus far.

On the positive side, having done it twice before I know that I can get through this and that it will pass eventually. And I know that there are things I can do to speed that process up at least a little.

One of those things is to talk about it rather than bottling things up, so that’s what I’m going to resolve to do.

Like I said, hopefully this is just a blip. But if it’s not, that’s okay too.

I remember the summer after my first year of university, five years ago.

And in particular, I remember that feeling of restlessness that developed around August – that desire to get summer over with and get back to school.

It was a strange feeling back then. After all, summer vacation had been what I lived for since I was 5 years old. Why was I suddenly wishing for it to end?

The reason was a simple one: four months of summer vacation is too much. Before I started university, summer vacation was a strictly July/August routine. May and June were added when I started university, and that just made the whole thing too damned long.

That same feeling of fatigue with summer vacation has returned year after year, and this year is no exception.

The difference is that I can feel it already and we’re not even out of May yet.

I think that the reason is again a very simple one. The past two years I’ve been living fairly independently (financial situation aside). I’ve been living 250 kilometres away from my nearest family, washing my own clothes, cooking my own meals, doing my own dishes, brushing my own teeth, and all sorts of other grown up things.

More to the point, when I’m in Kingston there’s no one telling me where to go or what to do. I have to do that myself. If I don’t do the things that I’m supposed to do, there are consequences. If I don’t make dinner, I don’t eat. If I don’t do the laundry, I have nothing to wear. And so forth.

Going from that situation to the situation I’m in during the summer when I’m living with my parents is hard. Suddenly I’m being told what to do and how to do it at every turn, and it’s driving me crazy.

I think everyone hits a point where they get tired of being told what to do by their parents. For some people it takes 15 years. For others, it’s even faster than that. 

For me it’s taken a solid 24 years to get there. But I am indeed getting there.