I just can't pick up a newspaper, and I just feel no impetus to blog.

It's like the screen popped up and demanded a "restart."

Part of it was getting through the Esquire piece, which I now realize was easier than I thought, primarily because Warren is Warren. It's amazing to see him take about 15,000 words (when all is said and done) and turn it into a little over 6k. He's pulling from fore and aft and everything just falls into place, like some Rubik's Cube he can put together blind-folded. You sit next to him, watching, and you can't believe he can do it. It seemed so complex to you just a few minutes ago, and he's rationalized the whole thing in a few days (often working late into the night, which I can't manage, as I am a morning writer and an evening reader).

Part of it is roughly 100 flights so far this year, and more hotel rooms than I can remember, which are really starting to creep me out (there is something so amazingly random about sleeping in strange places all the time, and my trips are so classically three nights at three different hotels).

Part of it is the inevitably ramping up of requirements from the kids as they grow up.

Part of it is simply realizing you stay connected to your spouse or you lose her inevitably.

Part of it is that I'm naturally an introvert who needs a lot of downtime.

But I'm sensing the biggest part is that build-up before the storm of creativity. I really feel the need to write this book welling up.

Then I think: Good God man! You've cranked three 6k-plus articles this year (one sitting with Esquire for consideration), plus a column every week, plus the blog. And you did all that travel.

You're just tired.

Last Saturday I tried to play Joe Homeowner really fast by spraying all the weeds. Jumping under the deck, I did my best crab walk, hyperextending my right knee, so I've had the opportunity to limp all this week, feeling very middle-aged.

That wears on you some, but it also focuses the mind: What do you want to do?

I want to write that book.

I don't want to try and parent kids at roughly 15 minutes a week.

I don't want to lose track of my marriage.

I'd someday like to be the U.S. ambassador to China.

I want to die somewhere other than Earth.

I want to maintain deep friendships with people I care about, like Steve and Mark and others.

I want religious faith like I had when I was 12 years old, and served maybe 300 times a year.

I want to understand the passage of time better.

I want to effect a worldwide revolution in thinking about war and peace.

I want my own luxury box at Lambeau.

I want to do a show on Broadway.

I want to play hundreds of rounds of golf with my sons, later with my adopted daughters.

I want to want what I've got instead of getting what I want (my favorite Sheryl Crow line).

I want to read books about Teddy Roosevelt.

I want to hold more babies.

I want to resume playing the piano like it's the most important thing in my life, which it will never be, but I wanna play like it is.

I think that's it.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Reboot complete.