It's really a time to be done with procrastination, make no excuses or apologies, and get on with the business of being oneself. My attentions tend to scatter from pillar to post, as the saying is, and the maintenance of several blogs has reduced itself to a mere trickle, productivity-wise, while the quotidian routines consume the time like a devouring worm consumes the soil. So by way of fighting back, as it were, against the devouring reach of time, I will indulge in some stream of consciousness which will serve to memorialize some of those mundane moments which would otherwise seem to represent the theft of my own promising but (inevitably, given human mortality) ever-shrinking future.
The problem with writing of one's daily business, of course, at least in my line of work, is that the business of others is mostly what my business is about: the personal, financial, spiritual and emotional health of a wide array of individuals; indeed, matters which require confidence and confidentiality make up the bulk of my waking hours. So ordinary chronicling of daily life becomes perforce off-limits. What other outlet might there be?
There is always fiction; but here, O long-neglected circle of friends, I must make a confession: my own sense of capacity for storytelling leaves me almost in despair. A fee short stories is all I can lay claim to, my life long until now. So what I am left looking at is the prospect of either breaking out into a skill hitherto untapped (which would be wonderful, and a bit surprising, frankly), or reverting to the production of occasional vignettes along the lines conforming to the title of this page, namely, "philosophickal ruminations" or the reflection upon the meaning of life, the universe and everything, or at least snippets and subsets of these.
The main thing, of course, is to do something and not nothing, as regularly as one can, so as not to fritter away the hours, days, weeks, months.... You get the idea.