Reason #1: Your computer is mysteriously abducted by aliens, who demand a reasonable sum of eighty nine million dollars for its safe return.
Reason #2: Your cats insist that you pet them no fewer than 34,120 strokes per day, leaving you basically only enough remaining time to do other important things like vacuum the coat closet and organize your sock drawer.
Reason #3: You recently fell prey to a vicious disease that allows you to eat nothing except oil of cod and also renders you incapable of moving your fingers, and your breath smells so bad from the cod that you are forced into a perpetual state of gargling Scope.
Reason #4: You discover that you are next-of-kin to 18 orphaned children and they move in, bringing with them an insatiable need for grilled cheese and apple juice and gummy bears, so you’ve spent the last two weeks sleeping in the supermarket aisles in case of emergency.
None of these, of course, explain why I personally parachuted off of the blogging earth and crash-landed somewhere north of a distant galaxy, where I’ve spent the last two weeks perfecting my tan and constructing shelters out of earwax and animal carcasses.
I’ve sent out an urgent S.O.S. and am anxiously awaiting word of my rescuers.