It turns out I simply cannot be trusted to stick to a daily schedule.
Shameful, really. I can manage it with brushing my teeth, even
washing most days, but putting something coherent down on a daily
basis completely eludes me.
Let’s try weekly,
then. I can surely manage that!
I’ve been thinking
about journalism for years. If I’d thought about it while I was
deciding what to study at eighteen (hah, what a bloody stupid age to
decide things like that!) I probably would have gone for it, I think.
It’s hard to say from this perspective. It’s all well and good,
looking back ten years and saying ‘oh yes, surely I would have done
X, if only I had known,’ but that neatly elides the intervening ten
years worth of experience which leads you to believe that a
completely different career path would be good for you.
Continue reading “Curiosity killed the cat…”
It’s been a little while, eh? I know the plan behind the daily
ramble was to ramble daily, but it seems not to have worked. I
suppose that’s the issue with not having discipline to begin with –
soon you slip and then fail to get back up again.
Continue reading “Moving, loving where you live, happiness”
Just a short one today – busy, busy packing and sorting and whatnots.
I did not get up early today. In fact, I was so utterly exhausted I slept straight through my alarm. Nothing really jolts you in the morning like realising you’re running half an hour behind. It’s better than coffee.
Continue reading “Recommend me personal blogs”
This is something I’m going to start doing, mostly because I
fancy it, but if anyone asks, it’s to build discipline.
Summer sunshine, (or indeed, any sunshine), the warmth, and the gentle balmy breezes are to be treasured, like gold or rare memories. Most of the time. When it comes to getting solid sleep, warm air and humidity are like little goblins who poke you awake every few minutes. I don’t think I’ve slept a solid night through in weeks. Damn Hotair. Damn Humidity. Warty little, sweaty little, greasy little goblin fuckers, jabbing me while I sleep. Last night was no exception.
Continue reading “Arrival of the Harvestmen”
There was a storm forecast for just after midnight, so I went to close the windows in my living room.
In the dark I could see the storm coming. The clouds were lit up from inside, silently flashing in the dark, humid night, marbled deep blue and purple and grey. The water of the wharf outside was flat as glass, with the occasional pin prick of rain. Save for the rolling clouds driving up from the south west and the ominous silent flashes of lightning hidden in the clouds, the night was utterly still.
Continue reading “The Thunder Storm”