So what's it all about?

I mentioned to a co-worker recently that I have a blog, albeit a much-neglected one. Her immediate question was "What do you write about?" Hmm... a very good question, considering that I barely write at all. I think if I had to limit my musings and ramblings to any one topic, I probably would never write at all.

So what do I blog about? Maybe the better question is, what did I think I was going to blog about? I guess I thought I was a much more interesting person when I started this. And maybe I was, since at that point I was a suburban Yankee refugee living in the sticks in almost-nowhere Mississippi, which was at least marginally humorous, if not all that interesting.

I didn't think I would write about my personal struggles, except to poke fun at them, because I didn't want to have a whiny blog. I was mindlessly browsing blogs one night, and I found one written by a woman who did nothing but complain about her job and her supervisor. Every post -- and she wrote a lot more than I probably ever will -- was a tirade about her boss. I guess it's cheaper than therapy. Which, come to think of it, would be a really good name for a blog. Or that tell-all book I'm going to write one of these days. Except I really imagined that my memoir and each of its chapters would all have the titles of country songs, and each one would start with a few lines from the song. They could even use actual clips of the song when they publish it as an audiobook. Or a podcast, or whatever they're doing to books by that time.

The chapter about this week would have to be called "Songs About Rain," because that's all it's done for three whole days. Last Sunday I was sitting on my back deck enjoying my last naive glimmer of hope that the Eagles might have a decent season after all. It was about 80 degrees and I was loving life in the South. Now it's 52 and it'll be 46 by morning. My apologies to the people in California who would probably really like the seven inches of rain (OK, I'm exaggerating) we've gotten this week. I'd gladly send it to you if I could. But for now I'm going to go home and try to find some sweaters. And see if I can figure out what it's really all about.