I’m reading a book right now called “The Girl on the Train,” and the protagonist is trying to figure out what happened during a Saturday night that she was black out drunk. The story claims that it’s not that we forget what happened while we are blacked out – we actually don’t make any memories while we are blacked out. Therefore, there is nothing to forget. Periods of black out are literally like black holes in our life that we will never get back.
When I logged on this evening and discovered I haven’t posted anything since February 2014, I was sure that was wrong. Could it be? It is. Here I am, March 2015, and I have NO IDEA where the last year went. What the hell happened?! Another school year ended, another birthday came and went, another Christmas and New Year. All four seasons have passed. The worst part? I don’t really have any idea what to write. This must have been why I haven’t written in a year. A few things have been dominating my brain, and frankly, I’m sure they’re not very interesting to write about. How many blogs can be about marriage, and weight loss, and other incredibly boring #adultproblems? The most exciting thing that’s happened to me in the last few months is that I decided to digitize my entire cd collection from the 90s and 2000s. I forgot I owned Enya, Blink 182, and not 1, but 2 Celine Dion greatest hits albums.
Even though nothing has been happening, I must start writing again. This is pure craziness. I don’t like the feeling of waking up from a drunken blackout, but I like waking up from a non-drunken, year-long blackout even less.