Sometimes I don't think I have anything to say, but something comes out anyway. Sometimes I start out saying one thing and end up telling a totally different story. Sometimes I just put it away and don't publish anything that day, and sometimes I fall back on something funny somebody said, or what we had for dinner.
Sometimes I self-censor a blog post out of existence because it's too personal, or too uninteresting, or about money, or religion, or things maybe I don't want all those people I know in real life to read and be thinking the next time they see me at nursery school or a family gathering. Whereas in reality, they probably didn't read it anyway, and certainly won't remember it if they did. They have too many other things in their lives. But sometimes the post I'm not writing drowns out the post I might write, so that I'm left with nothing to show for it.
Sometimes one word borrows another and suddenly I'm knee-deep in reminiscences about schooldays or misspent youth, whether you wanted to know it or not. Sometimes I read another blog, one so piercingly written or side-splittingly funny, that I wonder what the point is at all. Sometimes I think my stats are all just a big lie told by Russian searchbots and nobody's reading at all except my two friends down the road and my ever-constant husband.
Sometimes it turns out that you really just didn't have anything to say today. Try again tomorrow.