Remember when you used to blog?

That's what my friend, Alisa, said to me today and it nearly broke my heart. Ok my heart wasn't that close to breaking, it's been much closer--Ryan Reynolds, you really had to marry SCARJO? How could you!

I just feel a little guilty for neglecting my blog.

Though, feeling guilty isn't exactly a hard thing to make me feel. I experience guilt at least 12 times a day for things that don't really matter. I'm so guilty that I see a policeman and wrack my brain. Is he looking for me? Am I being arrested? Did I just jaywalk? I practically turn myself in. "Take me away officer, I forgot to call my mother earlier. Yes, I farted in the aisle at Duane Reade. Ok, fine, I tried a grape at the grocery store." You name it, I've felt guilty about it. And I wonder why I can't sleep well at night.

Anyway, the point is, I'm letting my 48 followers down. Of course, I think about all of you. I've been busy lately...but too busy for blogging? How dare I!

So I'm back. At least for tonight. I'm putting the premiere of House on the back burner. It will still be on my DVR in the morning. It will (I have to assure myself).

Gossip Girl can also wait. She's kind of a beeyotch anyway so I don't mind putting her in her place, whoever she is.

A month ago, I thought I was dying of another brain infection but that's only because I think I'm a doctor thanks to WebMD (I've self diagnosed a brain infection before). Turns out, there is nothing wrong with me at all but after spending a week on the symptom checker, I'm sure I've memorized almost every symptom and what they might lead to.

I really hated going to the doctor. WebMD was much more satisfying. WebMD doesn't make me feel crazy. It just allows me to be crazy. I bet doctors totally hate it and people like me.

I've realized though, we're all soft. And no, I did not just call you fat. I mean, we're pansies. No, we're not flowers, we're wusses. Yes, that's the word. With all the prescription drug ads on television, people just assume that there's a drug for everything, right? Like me, for example.

Doctor: So tell me what the problem is?

Jenna: Well, I'm just so sore. I'm all achy. I can barely walk.

Doctor: Have you worked out recently?

Jenna: Yesterday.

Doctor: And when was the last time you worked out before that?

Jenna: 1997

Doctor: You're experiencing sore muscles. That's normal.

Jenna: Right, well WebMD said I have Parkinson's or a rare bacteria infection that you can only get from a fungus in South American rain forests. I think it's the fungus one. I've decided we should amputate.

Doctor: No, you're just out of shape.

Jenna: Right, I hadn't really planned for that. If that is the case, what can you give me? Vicodin, percocet, you tell me, you're the "doctor."

Doctor: You don't need drugs, you need to work out more.

Jenna: Whoa, whoa...

Doctor: It couldn't hurt to lose...

Jenna: (awkward silence) Before I go, is there some way to make sore muscles sound like a bigger deal, you know, just so I can get out of work for a few days?

Doctor: Lazy-gluteus-maximus-syndrome.

Jenna: Awesome, thanks!

Whatever, I'm normal.

I hope you all miss me as much as I miss you.

Love,

Jenna