15K

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I normally try not to overwhelm anyone with multiple posts in one day, but today is special. For one: Hi. I like you. Thank you for reading my blog.

For another (a big 'nother): Today is the day I hit 15,000 hits. Which to me is CRAZY. And I know a lot of them are probably people who are lost or who Googled weird stuff like "Cats on Peanut Butter Sandwiches," but I'm going to still go ahead and be flattered.

Especially considering my first few years of posts are primarily about my cat.
Or food.
So pretty much Instagram but with less photos.

I've been giving a lot of thought to what makes me happy- what I can get lost in- as of late. And this is it. I can get lost writing to these bizarre entries about nothing and no one in particular. I don't really know why. Maybe I'm attention-starved. Maybe I feel like somewhere, someone is laughing at the fact that I just threw a shout out to a PB&J Cat.

By the way: this is a thing. Yessssss.... 

I think the whole blogging thing is kind wild to think about. So many of us sit at computers all day and all we want is for some camaraderie. Someone to be like, "Hey. YOU. I, also, am sitting at a computer all day. Let's talk about cats. And sandwiches. And how we wish we were doing something else besides talking about cats and sandwiches but we're NOT because, whyarewenot?"

We're all a little ridiculous, and slightly insane after staring at a screen all day. And I can pretend that I'm throwing myself under the bus there but I think I'm just being honest. I'm not meant to be sitting here. I'm meant to be outside somewhere in the California sun. And it's just, you know, life that I'm not. But in a weird way, I'm glad I am. Because this is fun, and it makes me feel like even though I may be slightly mad, it's relateable on some level because 15,000 people have somehow ended up here, reading my life-analysis excerpts. And maybe they aren't THAT weird, or unrelateable- because you come back here for a laugh when your day needs one.

So, thanks for letting me make you laugh. Or think. Or perhaps just be incredibly confused. You're sorta my favorite.