How often do you look at a blank page without knowing exactly what it is you are going to write, without even having any kind of an idea what you want to write about?
Probably not that often, unless you are a "blogger". I am not one of those brilliant bloggers who pplan my week, or month ahead of time. I have no notebooks full of ideas. I have no sponsors to please. I have no giveaways that must get posted.
I just come here and spill my guts every so often to the loyal readers that come back day after day and read my words, and look at my pictures.
I tell them about my exploits at the gym. How much work sucks. What I was up to at the weekend.
I share pieces of my life with them.
But I don't share everything, cos that would be weird.
There aren't many people in the world that would really care when I last went to the bathroom, what colour underwear I have on, and what I am planning to make for my dinner tonight. :-)
So I sit here, in front of my computer again, trying to decide what to write about today.
This week has been gym, eating, drinking, watching Australian Masterchef and The Almighty Johnstons, sleeping, work and hanging out at home.
I say a picture on Facebook where a gil had taken too many steroids to get a bodybuilder's figure and was starting to turn into a man. Then in Cosmo there was a picture of a girl who had worked out so much she had a pretty manly looking figure too. It started to scare me a little.
Was I going to turn out like that?
Why did these girls not stop what they were doing when they noticed things starting to change. Did they see their arms and chests and shoulders developing huge muscles and think "that looks good"? and then just keep going?
Why do we keep doing things to the point they can't be changed?
Why can't we stop things before they go too far?