Blogging Bootcamp Washout

My first inclination would be to invoke the “I didn’t sign up for this” platform, but that would be a lie.

“Say that loud and proud private.”

“THAT WOULD BE A BIG FAT LIE, MA’AM.SIR. I MEAN SIR, MA’AM.”

I lust after the ability to blog on about anything. To have a life that gives me endless opportunities to prattle about endlessly. Situations into which I would gallantly lead my legions of faithful bloggees on a daily basis. And then nightly, after lights out, flick on the monitor and revel in their replies. A world of friends, of words, and life – literally outside of life itself.

But. No. Here I sit trying to marshal my thoughts into orderly units of words marching seamlessly across my page. All to save Blogging 4 Books. I love books, I love blogs, I hang on every word issued by the blogging heroes of my mornings and late nights. Those who have valiantly paved the way for us blogging wanna-bes. Privates in the Army of Words who couldn’t do a week’s worth of humorous blogging if our lives depended on it, and therefore wash out of Blogging Boot Camp in the first week.

I hate that thought, more than the fear that kept me from joining the military in the first place. BOOTCAMP. The fear of boot-camp, and the PT that went with it kept me, from joining back in the mid-seventies. Which is good because I then found out I was preggers and well, you didn’t have unmarried (well then I did get married) enlistees run their butts off in PT only to give birth on the proving grounds. Nope that just wouldn’t work.

So I did the next best thing, I married a guy going into the Army.

“AN ENLISTEE, SIR. YES, SIR!.”

But I digress; we aren’t revisiting him again. Well, at least not this time, because I am soooo over that. But I’m not over words. No I could never be over words. I would have a love affair with the written word that would cover volumes, tomes, whole libraries if I could. But I can’t marshal the long term, complete with an ending, storyline. I am therefore ever enlisted into the ranks of word privates (not even a PFC.) Where I shall hang on the every word of my Blog Generals: Jackson, Collins, Carson, and that Mir lady. Standing in the wings provoked into a witty (oh, please let it be witty) retort. Challenged into deep thought by the musings that await me each morning and night on the battlefield of blogging words.

Ah, life is good. I mean…

“LIFE IS GOOD, SIR. YES, SIR!”