Mission: Impossible

Uh oh. Here it is, the eleventh hour. Time to write the blog. It's now or never...
Lately this is what it's been like inside my head. I remember the good old days when it sounded a lot more like, Yee-Haw! Here it is, the eleventh hour! TIME TO WRITE THE BLOG!!!
But my utter lack of enthusiasm to put any part of myself out into the world will pass in time. Before long I'll be whoring my personal secrets out to the unloving and judgmental universe like there's no tomorrow.
Today, on the other hand, I don't want to tell you people anything. Except that my dog has a veterinarian vaccination and teeth cleaning at 9 am in the morning. And that means I should be getting ready for bed soon. Eight glasses of water a day. Eight hours of sleep. That's just how I roll baby. That's just how I roll.

I do, however, have a controversial and potentially impossible plan of attack for re-invigorating my daily www entrys. It's something I've been ruminating trying out (originally for one day only) since early on in this year-long writing experiment. I'm just going to extend it is all.
For one full week I am going to post every single day (as usual) continuing on in developing the voice and dedication required for being a skilled writer. Only now, I will go the entire seven days without once using the pronoun "I."
It's over: My obsession with self. It's over: My constant exploration of every single thought or emotion that bubbles up inside me, no more significant than a fart. Plain and simple, it's over: The pronoun "I." For one complete week. We'll see how "I" do. But be on the lookout for any rogue "I's" that slip in. Don't let a single secret "I" slide through the cracks! "I'm" begging you!

One week.
Here's hoping that "I" can do it. Here's hoping that "I" can still keep things personal. Heck, here's hoping that "I" can find plenty to say without devolving into just another celebrity commentator.
Oh, what on Earth am "I" thinking? "I" don't have a shot in hell.