Apparently the typical blog lasts for 100 posts which, assuming maybe thrice-weekly posting, is about the shelf-life of a commercially-produced stroopwafel. Admittedly I’ve let this space get a little stale over the last month or so, but I intend to push it past the mean expiration date. Because for me, blogging, like a syrup-filled dough sandwich, is a treacly life-sweetner.
Firstly, it has encouraged me to try new things. Obviously not in a Hannah Horvath-ian get sex-punched in the chest/sleep with the boss for the story kind of way, but I might (for example) have chickened out of improv if it hadn’t been a slow week with little else to write about. I also have an amazing blind date story itching to be written up into a pivotal romcom scene; after all my hypocritical whinging and an interesting plot twist, I ended up going on this college date exchange because I thought it could make for a good tale.