First a disclaimer: This post may not contain my usual brand of spontaneity and comic wit. It may feel forced and disjointed. Or, it may feel like I am speaking through one of those boxes that is intended to alter a person’s voice when they want to remain anonymous during a television interview.
Why, dear reader, why?
Why have you not barged down my door, wringing your angry fists, threatening me life and limb, begging me to write another post?
Why? Do you not love me?
Life has gotten ahead of me.
I have had no space in which to write.
In the event that you were, in fact, considering living out a villainous fantasy in which you stake out all of my favorite places and accost me at the most ridiculous of times and throw a pillowcase over my head and thrust me into the back of an unmarked van and blackmail me with some nasty bit of icky hearsay that you gathered from my old college roommates and hold me at knife point in front of a lap tap near a wi-fi hot spot until I write more posts, I am here to tell you that I will publish something soon.
Now, your breath may return to normal. Your fear may subside. There will be more posts.
Oh yes, there will be.
