It was probably predictable: for the first time in my life, I have all the time in my life to live my life, instead of squishing my life in around the edges of a career I accidentally built…for twelve years.
What do you do when the days are sunny, when you can write all day and see interesting people at night or just hang out with your intended? If you’re me, some days you write and post. But other days – today days – you write and write and then you wonder about your writing. Now that I have all this time, is this the writing I should be writing? Is this writing worthwhile writing? Which leads to, “What is worthwhile writing anyway?” and, “Why do I read the things I read? Because they’re worthwhile? And is my writing writing that other people think is worthwhile, and, if so why?”
It’s an annoying 85 degrees outside. In April. Which is absurd and unfriendly and annoying. I think I’ll chalk all this up to that and get back to the writing.
(Oh – also – I’m still sick. So there’s that too.)
Displaced 
I think your writing is all worth reading and writing back about your writing, exactly what I think about your writing!! (Interpretation: your writing rocks because it is funny and witty and intelligent and often very surprising, which is quite enjoyable!) Does this answer your question about your writing?? 🙂
Ditto