Make that – I’ve already run out of stuff to write about. “Running out” makes it seem like I still have stuff, but soon I won’t. Kind of like saying you’re “running out” of gas. You still have gas and the car still moves, but you know that very soon it won’t move anymore.

But I’ve run out of stuff. My blog is not able to move.

Oh sure, I could always resort to the old patterns:

I could rant about how mean some of my Monday-Tuesday kids are;

I could make fun of Obama;

I could be all serious and introspective about living alone;

I could be like other blogs and resort to writing about bodily functions;

I could make sarcastic comments about any number of things.

But I’m tired of writing that stuff. If I were a reader of this blog, I’d be tired of reading it. So I’m in the process of coming up with something clever. No promises, though.