I have not been blogging much lately, it is true. As true, in fact, as "not blogging" is probably the Number One topic in blogging's lame and incestuous history. I know, I know. Nobody cares about how I haven't been updating much and that's simply because A) who gives a fuck about a Blogagaard, anyway? and B) life is ultimately meaningless (that's right, sparrows, peer into that vast and yawning void! Peer big time!) and this means that blogging, therefore, is ultimately double (or triple) meaningless.
That said, I at least have some small defense. I'm in the midst of teaching a graduate level course (for the first time ever) at Hamline University on Speculative Fiction. I have found, so far, that when I'm teaching a course I get increasingly obsessed with it as it goes along and lose a good amount of sleep trying to analyze each class from every angle. I even did this with the cooking school lit class I taught, which was like worrying how you could improve your herding feral cats technique. That's something I never heard much about before I myself started teaching-it's not just a job, it's an obsession. At least until you get tenure and let yourself happily go to seed and start shouting stuff like, "Fuck off, Vonnegut was a god!"
Also, I am 185 pages into my newest novel and lo, how the dark waters have risen!
Also, my arms and legs have started going numb when I sleep at night, bad enough to wake me up. I'm terrified I have diabetes or something but refuse to see a doctor until I pass out. I probably just need some exercise, but is it worth the cost?
These are the days of our lives.