Nothing to write. Nothing to say. Yet that tiny voice inside keeps whispering. Mostly it is making lists of the things I did not do this weekend: laundry, clean the bathroom, make the bed, file taxes, write some letters. And in spite of the joke that I was giving up cursing for Lent (which is akin to taking a vow of silence), I have found that the voice is using a lot fewer mean words that normal. Maybe that is why I have nothing to say...because my thoughts are much better punctuated with four letter words than the ones that earn 50 bonus points when playing Scrabble.