Wow. I talk deeply about depression, and I get everyone's attention. I switch gears to cheer everyone up a bit, and everyone abandons me. OK, fair enough. Two posts ago, I wrote about a duck crossing the highway. The last post was about me killing a fly, and I suppose that's about as entertaining as watching paint fuck and flies dry. I tried to give it some oomph, but I guess no one gave a shit.
It's weird how vast the drop-off was. Maybe it's just the constant saturation of these blogs. I am, after all, up to #42. That's a lot to read every night, I guess. If I had such low numbers on any other regular post, I would probably cancel it. This one? I think I'll soldier on. It's more of a writing exercise for me, anyway. If it entertains someone out there, then double points for me.
After I got my required word count out of my head tonight, I spent a lot of time gearing up for things. Wizard World Chicago is this weekend. I'll be there Friday, and it's going to be a hell of a day for me. After the show, I'm doing the Forced Viewing podcast (hopefully), after which I'm going to (hopefully) hang out with some Artists Alley friends. I don't know how I'm going to live through it all. Plus, that's the day THE COCAINE! BROS. returns. I intend to have the new post up by noon that day, so keep an eye out for it.
I am really fucking busy these days. You'd think my insomnia would have shriveled and died. No such luck.