bad blogger, she is I

Memorial Day weekend approaches. Three blissful days of rest, sunshine and my annual futile attempt to pot pretty plants and coax them through three months of life. I curse my black thumb and set out yearly to refute its genetic disposition toward overwatering, underwatering, accidental root severing and the like. Time might be better spent deweeding the yard but it is always less rewarding to take away than to add.
But I blather.
My two days of silence—didja miss me?—came without warning. Every now and then it happens, the unthinkable: I have nothing to say. I do not fight those moments but, rather, I embrace them. Oh still, still mind with nary a thought, how sweet is your rest.
Actually I was just crazily slammed. No matter how many years I tackle the Monday, Tuesday shuffle still there are weeks where the machine throws me for a loop, an hour lost here, an hour screwed up there and before you know it I'm in frantic mode and there seems to be not even a moment to gather my thoughts.
And, sadly, that mode is still in effect. Monday's holiday means accelerated deadlines as of... NOW through Friday so it's time to hustle. This hurried atmosphere did not keep us from discussing this New York Times story on the trend against anonymous sources and all the various media issues that engenders.