I could blog or I could write.
Really, how many words can I write in the 40 minutes I have before I must leave for work? Wouldn't this time be better spent, I don't know, doing something? I'll write when I have copious amounts of silent, unhindered time.
Then I open my quote journal, and find this:
"You will turn over a many a futile new leaf 'til you learn we must all write on scratched-out pages."
So I'm writing and wishing you happy travels down your own imperfect road.