2009.06.27 Insert Title Here

It's a strangely poignant time to have nothing to say. We're expecting the arrival of the Peanut any day now, though it could still be a week or more. We have been expecting Grandma to pass away for a few weeks now, though it could still be an indeterminate time yet to come. And we're expecting our beloved old cat Rita to die sooner rather than later.

But none of it has actually happened yet. And the possibilities of all of them are all jumbled up in this confusing concoction of proto-feelings, or just preparing to feel things. There is honestly nothing I can say about any of these three things that isn't skewed by the others.

By the same token, I've spent the last while really sort of not saying much of anything about them. Not entirely intentionally, though. The actual progression is more like, I am emotionally wrapped up in these three things but find I cannot string together anything meaningful to say. Having failed to construct something from them, I move on to contemplate trying to write about something else instead. Inevitably, though, that something else seems bleached and pointless in the contrast of these three orbiting emotional singularities. So I haven't bothered.

Which is why we find ourselves in this mentally exhausting place of writing about how I can't write about things without addressing the things I can't write about. Hopefully that's all sorted out now, thanks to this meta-post.

So, if that has worked, the paradox has been punctured and I should be free to write about anything I want.

Bugger.