We're more than twenty days into 2011 and I hadn't felt the need to blog.

Okay, well, I HAD felt the need to blog, but I just hadn't done it.  There is that whole "failed marriage" specter which is kind of clinging to me like a very large and sad cobweb, and which makes it hard to be completely frank and straightforward about many of the thoughts I have been having.

But it's the sad truth: marriage, ending.  It's amicable.  We are working on it.  The less that can be said about it at this point, the better.  After all, I do still have two munchkins who may someday read all this crap, and the last thing I need is for them to read things that may make them resent one or both of their parents.  Or at least read things that may make them think their mother sure was one hell of a dumbshit.

Anyway, here we are: the first year of a new decade.

I confess: I have the old-feeling thoughts often.

But perhaps it's enough for now to dwell on the endings, and on the old-feeling, and on all the things that could have been but never were– life is painful enough as it is to focus on the bad right off the bat, when the year is still young and the gyms are still overflowing with grease-faced hopefuls who want to feel better about themselves at least until Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow or not.

I'm back for now, bitches.  Deal.