Sometimes, when I sit down and stare at a white blank page, my heart races. I fear the mistakes I’m about to make, at the same time I’m in awe of the creation about to spring forth the tip of my pen. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again. I am not a fast writer, but I am a sprinter.

I sat down this morning, meaning to write a blog post about focus and patience, with OCD tendencies. It would have been my first substantial post since the beginning of the month, but when I logged in to WordPress I found my site unresponsive. Temperamental, even. Other sites I host on the same server, but different accounts, were fine. I was about to blame my half-full cup of coffee when Google interceded and warned me that my site was being suspicious as all fuck. Fuck.

It’s now my second February living in southwest Ontario, with 50F weather and scattered rain showers. The snow, which didn’t fall until mid-January, is a memory and it will be at least a week before we have any chance of seeing more.

Life with chronic health conditions and no health insurance is interesting.

I thought it’d be interesting to look at some rough numbers, based on my Duotrope stats, year over year.