Uninteresting

I’ve been having trouble this morning coming up with a good topic to write about. I wrote an entire blog entry about stress but then I decided that I didn’t like it, so I saved it for another day; maybe one where I’m more stressed out. I was thinking back through my day yesterday, looking for an interesting conversation or event, but I didn’t come up with much. I got to work pretty early. I had Taco Bell for lunch. I went for a walk. I interviewed some candidates for an open position that I have. My wife came home from her business trip. I went to dinner, watched some TV, and went to bed. I dreamed that I lived in a very strange house with my older brother.
I would like to believe that my life is really interesting. It may be compared to some, but I’m pretty sure it’s not compared to others. I do try to put myself into places where interesting things can happen but sometimes they still don’t. I like to watch people. I like to make up stories about them. I didn’t see many people yesterday that I didn’t know. The only time I saw unfamiliar people was at lunch and at dinner. I didn’t have too much time to make up a story about the guy at the Taco Bell drive through. At dinner there was a couple with a small boy that they let run amuck in the restaurant. I don’t think this blog is the right place to document the story I made up about them.
I think that some entries in this blog are going to have to be pretty pedestrian. Someone suggested to me that most people don’t write everyday and that I shouldn’t feel like I need to. I do think I should though. There will be days I miss, but just having an uninteresting day is not a valid excuse.