Just checked the calendar to see how far behind I am ; today the schedule tells me I should be on post number three hundred and forty one. Three three three – sixteen score, ten and three- a mystical significance – woowoo half of six six six the number of the beast. Father, son and holy spirit. CCCXXXIII has a certain aesthetic appeal. And thus ends whatever it was I was trying to do. See I search for the number/year on wikipedia and then basically copy what I see – it's not really writing, or knowledge, or creativity, it's just a lazy way of giving my fingers some direction in their key-tapping exercise.
Approaching is my Spanish holiday during which there is (as yet) undetermined internet connection. I haven't had a holiday since starting this blog so that's another test of my dedication coming up. Just a simple house move has totally thrown me out of whack. There was a time when I almost became good at blogging, now here I am writing a self-analysing diary entry about not being able to write anymore. It's one of those rough patches that this whole project is supposed to help me weather. I'll still be writing when the spark is back ; I'll be right on top of it when it's time to write write write.
According to wikipedia nothing much happened in 333AD (although it's possible that one or two things happened unknown to wiki-writers), but in 333BC Alexander conquered Asia Minor ; a great and defining moment in history retold in the epic ballad Alexander the Great by Iron Maiden. Three three three was all about Alexander. Weird how one person is all that is remembered from that time – all I need do to be remembered is subdue those pesky Persians. Not sure I can manage that.
I just said to myself one more paragraph and then it's bedtime, as if that is a good way to write. If fiction or a decent article was filling the page that might be a good thing, but as it is just blah blah blah this that the other. I heard a joke that made me laugh today : What's the difference between a bulldozer and a giraffe? One has hydraulics and the other has high bollocks. Truly I did fall on the floor. I attempted to retell it later and couldn't even draw a smile from my unwilling victim. It's the way I tell 'em. How do comedians do it? Who would win in a fight between Dara O'Briain and Alexander the Great. Eighteen words until the count is fulfilled and I can relax, recoup, take a step back and actually spend some time thinking about what to write. Word count finished now. Shame about number 333. Lets hope 365 will be on time and of extremely high quality. Maybe I should start planning it now.