The first step to recovery

I've just been talking to Jaimie, who called from Tennessee after a hard day's work and one too many margaritas. She was telling me I don't blog enough.

This, after an e-mail from Laura saying something to the effect that she was getting ready to bitch me out for not updating when she caught my post on Thursday.

Well guys, I'm sorry I can't be a perfect poster like you. No, really, I am truly envious of your clockworkesque updates. I'm grateful to have something new to read every day and I wish I could do the same for you. But the thing is, I don't have the time. It's not that I don't have the time to sit down, type something out, and click on "Publish". It's that I don't have the time to have a life that's interesting enough to write about.

Hi, my name is Liz, and I'm a workaholic.

Maybe it hasn't gone that far, but it's definitely in the genes. So you guys, continue to be my accountability partners. If I'm not posting enough, it's because I'm working too hard, and you have my permission to yell at me about it.