Today was a good day.  It was productive.  I got a lot done, but the day was not full of intensity.  There was nothing spectacular.  Nothing unusual.  Just a day.  Nothing really to write about.

I was stymied in terms of writing my daily blog.  Then I got to thinking how fortunate I am.  I get to write.  Write for pure enjoyment.  Write on my own small stage.  Write where I can receive instant feedback.  Write, because I have the luxury to write.  I can afford to write.  Write for fun.

Yes, one hundred years ago, after a day in the factory or fields, they were lucky to write.  Write in the solitude of a diary.  Lucky if they had some pleasant distraction to write about.  Pleasant distractions that I write about daily from my air conditioned house.

I write, because I am blessed.  Blessed with an opportunity to write.  Write for the love of writing.