Let me tell you a little story. Its a story that I am calling "Why don't you write a blog about it."
In it the main character has events happen to him - some good, some bad, some small, some pretty freaking huge - and he almost never ever ever writes a blog about them. Thankfully he has (this is the main character doing the having - not me) a domestic partner with whom he is entirely enthralled, and this domestic partner has a blog. And this wonderful wife-type person does a really good job of blogging. She loves blogging about everything. She even loves blogging about nothing. She even blogs about the completely non-eventful fact that as one day changes to the next, its number changes - but she does it so well that you want to read it everyday just to see if the next day will be numbered one less then the previous.
So this main character is under constant harassment to write a blog about things. Every time he has a funny anecdote - write a blog. Every time a thing happens that alters his point of view in some meaningful way - write a blog about it. Every time his students (because the main character is a teacher) do something neat - write a blog about it.
But he never does. Remember the part from earlier where he never ever ever writes a blog about it? It was not a lie. He never does. But here is the twist - ready?
He always says that he will. I was (in my duties as narrator in this little story) truncating the conversations.
When they play all the way out - it actually goes a little like this:
Event / Story / Whatever.
"Why don't you write a blog about it?"
" I will."
And that's the twist. That little "I will" there at the end. So in this story (fictional story) that little "I will" keeps twisting and gnawing at the main character's guts until he develops an ulcer from guilt (ulcerus reus) and can not eat anything tasty at all.
So he lives a long happy life with his great wife and they dine on nothing but oatmeal.
All the time. Oatmeal.
So that's the story.
I wrote a blog.