Actually, that's not true. I didn't run out of things to say. I ran out of energy to say them. The Boy and I were busy - but not the kind of busy you think. We were busy enjoying life. We made time for fun, lots of home cooking, going on runs and fussing on the furballs.
But I just didn't want to write about it. I didn't want to do anything except go to work, come home in the evening and do all of the aforementioned things.
And I think that's ok. Sometimes it should be more about living life than chronicling life.
After all, being busy is pretty overrated.