Blogger's Block turns to Farting

I just read a great post from the hilarious Chiz at Chiz Chat about writer's block and the problem of distractions. I seem to be having Blogger's Block. I can't seem to think of anything interesting to blog about.

I am having no problem with my writing projects: I am in the middle of editing a piece for the Anthology my writing group is self-publishing; I cannot wait to get back to my memoir and am constantly re-writing scenes in my head as I walk the dog and drive in my car. Sadly, all my genius prose is lost as I seem to have the memory of a gnat. One day I will learn to use the voice notetaking thingy on my phone.



But I feel at a loss to know what to blog about.

What would be interesting? I loved the A-Z Challenge as it gave me something to base a post on every day, even if most of the time I wrote utter nonsense. Which, I suppose, brings me to the fact that I haven't really decided what my blog is about. 
 

I thought about writing about my busy weekend gardening, but that would probably be as interesting as watching the slugs grow, which eventually eat my lovely plants. I could write about the delightful hour spent taking my son to find a model spaceship, but I wanted to poke my eyes out with a sharp stick it was so boring. I could write about going grocery shopping with my husband on Friday where they know us by name and say hello to us as we walk around the store(Jeez, can my life get any more predictable?), but you would probably poke your eyes out. I could write about all the delicious food we cooked over the weekend, but you really needed to be there to eat it (and then I would have made you wash up afterwards). I could write about my night out with my writing group to see Emotional Creature at Berkeley theatre (actually, that was interesting).

But I thought, instead, I would talk about night farts. Yes, you read correctly. Night farts. How embarrassing are they? What is it about being fast asleep and looking as sweet and innocent as a newborn baby, and then having this disgusting, putrid air escape from your bum without you even knowing anything about it? It's bad enough when you just have the cat jump off the bed in disgust, but when there is another person in the bed with you, well, it's just too humilating. I think it's the thought of having no control over your own bottom. It just emits a toxic gas without you even pushing a sneaky one out.

When I first got together with my husband, I wouldn't dream of farting in front of him. I would pretend to go to the loo and let it out there. Or, if I didn't think I would make it in time, I would cough loudly instead (luckily he is a bit deaf so he didn't notice the difference). Now, a mere three and a half years into our marriage, here I am puffing out bottom burps like Thomas the Tank engine. But what can you do about your body turning traitor on you when you're asleep? It's mortifying and very unladylike. And you all know what a 'lady' I am! 

Does anyone else have this problem? Not that you'd admit to it or, in fact, even know about it, unless your other half is as ungentlemanly as mine and tells you how much you were farting the other night.

What is more embarrassing - night farts or day farts?