Welcome Back, Squatter

I looked for photos of actual squatters, but felt the ones I found were demeaning.  This woman chose to dress this way to perform squats, and as such, she demeans only herself.  By the way, honey, love the shoes!  (Image from thegreatfitnessexperiment dot com)
I looked for photos of actual squatters, but felt the ones I found were demeaning. This photo features a woman doing squats in a snazzy lavender outfit. By the way, honey, love the shoes! (Image from thegreatfitnessexperiment dot com)

I’ve been gone from this blog for a while.

I’m tempted to come up with some elaborate tale of intrigue to explain why I’ve been absent.  Kidnapped by land pirates, I’ve been held hostage in their underground lair and tortured daily as they tried in vain to get me to divulge the passwords to my 403b and savings accounts.  With that knowledge, they could abscond with the few remaining nickels of my nest egg which may still be been left since the Target data breach and laptop theft from the offices of my dental insurance company in Newark a few weeks before that.

Alas, I have no such story.  There is nothing to report of my overcoming adversity to acend from the ashes like a bald phoenix.  There’s been no bravery to report nor any triumph of spirit against overwhelming odds.

It would be easy to pin this on the holidays.  Who could blame me for caving in to the impossible pressure of trying to live up to the uber-consumerism of Lexus commercials or the Norman Rockwellian family bliss of nearly every one of my friends’ posts on Facebook?  Surely it would be easy to connect my lack of productivity to jolly old St. Nick and the hollow feelings which hover close by nearly every December.

If the holidays weren’t daunting enough, I could blame the weather.  Though many people have suffered far worse weather than I in recent weeks, the lack of sun and chilly temperatures could be the problem.  Seasonal affective disorder could be the root cause, but it’s not.  If anything, the lack of any excuse whatsoever to go outdoors should be making me write more, not less.

It would be ludicrous to think that my dwindling posts have been due to a lack of fodder.  Anyone who reads my blog with any regularity knows better than that.  I can crank out 800 words whining about damn near anything at the drop of a hat.  In the past week or three, there have been more slow-pitched, beach ball-sized topics lobbed over my blog plate than I could count.  Even if I swung my giant cartoon bat like a girl, I would have had home runs nearly every time.  Yet, I never even made it to the on-deck circle, preferring to sit in the dug-out gnawing on sunflower seeds and ignoring the game.

I will admit to having spent more time than usual tending to my seasonal duties, putting up and then taking down Christmas lights and decorations.  I was also relegated to the kitchen for 3 straight days, cranking out feasts for the usual suspects.  Still, those tasks coincided with my being free of my work-for-pay responsibilities, so there was ample room in my days for a little blogging, and yet I didn’t write a stinking word.  In fact, I’ve barely read any blogs in weeks.

I just haven’t felt like writing, or reading, or participating.  In reality, I’ve been nothing more than an intellectual squatter in these parts for these past weeks.  Squatters by definition reside in empty or abandoned locales, so it wouldn’t really apply to WordPress, where the rest of you appear to be very active occupants.  I consider myself a squatter more because I paid no rent, made no contribution and had no business being here.

Alas, with the coming of a new year, comes grandiose promises.  If I’ve learned a damn thing over the past 50-odd new years, it would be that it’s wise to keep my foolish promises to yourself.  Rather than set myself up for failure, I’ll just leave it at this: I’m going to stop being a WordPress squatter.  Hopefully, I’ll accomplish this feat by writing again.

20 thoughts on “Welcome Back, Squatter

  1. No worries. Everyone needs a break now and then. I’ve taken quite a long one myself. There are times in probably most bloggers lives when we can all say, “I’ve got nuthin’.” But then, there’s always a well-placed, horrifying photo.

    1. Mucking stalls while thinking wistfully of our minutes together back in August? You’re a hopeless romantic, and I adore you for it. Hand me the shovel and you can sit back and watch for a while.

  2. Thank god. My life has been shallow and lacking substance. Since your last post, nothing good has happened whatsoever. I mean, I published a new novel, so I guess that’s something. Oh, I signed a deal with a major publisher for 8 books. I made the Amazon bestseller list.

    I’ve passed the time making up fantastical conversations with you.

    OPP: What book did you publish, Victor?
    Victor: Ohh, so kind of you to ask! It’s a work of sci-fi epic mastery called “The Evolution of Vaughn”. It’s available on Amazon.
    OPP: That’s fantastic! You’re like the coolest guy I know.
    Victor: You are too kind! I just strive to be as cool as you.

    As you can see, it’s just not the same without you.

    1. Victor Victor Victor! Of course it’s incredibly exciting that you’ve gotten publishing deals, but sadly, my feelings of inferiority and envy prevent me from going on and on about your success. You know in your heart of hearts that you’re just one step away from superstardom. I can only hope you’ll remember the little people when you finally arrive among the ranks of our generations most brilliant novelists. Kudos, Big Dog!

      1. My one step from superstardom is comparable to Neil Armstrong’s. However, when I’m giving my Oscar speech for the movie adaptation of What Zombies Fear, consider yourself included in the “Thank you to everyone I didn’t have time to name.”

  3. Dave, you’re considered a squatter in the cyberspace only if you take over a domain name that should belong someone else, like justinbieber.com or burgerking.net. So you’re definitely not a squatter, because “Onepointperspective” is clearly your real last name… Isn’t it?

  4. Welcome back! I can completely relate on so many levels, except for the bald phoenix, that’s all yours (hilarious). I also had to go back to look at that ass…dear lord baby’s got more that back going on and yet she can drop it like its hot. Impressive.

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