When I was little--like, in kindergarten--sometimes my mom would ask me what we did in school that day. Being fundamentally lazy, I never really wanted to go into it--not to mention that I don't think I was really sure what I was supposed to tell her about. After some prodding I'd sometimes start to describe something, and then get bored or frustrated or whatever, and say, "Oh, I can't explain it." My brother had his own version of this excuse, which was, "I'm too tired to." (When he was even littler, he used to say, "But I don't want to," which was more honest, but amounted to the same thing. It always ran together and sounded like, "BuhdaidohWAnoo.")
Sometimes I think this is why I don't blog. I have these thoughts. Or someone else has them and they strike me as interesting. Then I think about sharing them here, and it seems too complicated or too confusing or like too much work and I think something along the lines of, "Oh, I can't explain it." After which, I have a backlog of ideas which I wish I had written about after all. Sigh.
I say this because there are one or two things I was thinking about back in January or something, which fall into the above category. It's a warning, maybe, that I might just drag them out into the light of day after all. I could do it right now. BuhdaidohWAnoo.