Might have to just start making things up. Because I don’t already do that. Much.

You know that one friend you have, who gets a new boyfriend, and that’s all she can talk about, and then she sort of falls off the face of the planet and the rest of you are sitting around having coffee 4 months later idly wondering, “Whatever happened to so-and-so?”

Apparently I’m like that with new jobs.

Except, I can’t really talk about it, because it’s all very important and proprietary and has seven layers of security clearance.


Okay, fine.  I can’t really talk about it because people at work read my blog.

(Side note: Don’t ever let that happen, if you want to tell a story and maintain any sense of originality.  I couldn’t figure out why they were looking at me funny when I was talking about my childhood blanket burrito, and then they were all, “Yeah.  We already read that on your blog.”)

So I can’t talk about work, and I don’t discuss my relationship, and the whole point of this blog was NOT to talk about my kid.  I’ve effectively narrowed my bloggable options down to the state of my uterus, and what I had for lunch.

(The same, and leftover spinach salad.)

Hm.  So.  See you in six months?