There is a clickidy and a clackidy constantly clapping and clocking from the corner of the sofa where my fiancee surreptitiously solitaires on her smart-phone. For over a week now she has been glued to that little screen, moving around those little pixel-built playing-cards, and all I can do to get attention is play solitaire alone on my laptop and hope she happens to notice. The solitaire on my screen occassionally catches the corner of her eye, and she glances over momentarily to tell me she has won again. I'm begging for scraps but the solitaire app is getting the lion's share. Proper pathetic, innit.
Yesterday – I can't remember why – I said distractions are good, and was countered with sometimes. Not sure what point I was trying to make – not sure I understood it or believed it – and don't have a clue why I'm bringing it up now. Distractions are the bane of my life – all plans, projects, plots and schemes end in a trickle as the distractions of flashing lights, drying paint, and pickled cabbage pull me away from whatever I should be doing.
For instance, right now I'm doing a blog but instead of concerntrating I'm looking and listening over at Geordie Posh Bird's Finishing School or something – as a result of this mind-numbing tosh I cannae complete a single thought or a. You know I was sure I had written more than this ; turns out I was looking at a book and there were more words in that than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
So this daily blogging project has hit a snag – but in the larger scale of things it doesn't really matter. The only real downside is that instead of triumphantly bounding over the one year mark, I am limping lamely across ; repeatedly tripping and falling like an unsecure catwalk model tottering on twelve inch heels and bound for YouTube glory. The one year anniversary has, I think, passed, and yet I am struggling to reach out and touch that magic number three-six-five. Oh, three-six-five come to me. I promise here and now that when I arrive at the two year anniversary I will also arrive at the seven-three-zeroth post. And all will be good and proper ; all will be right and decent ; all will be safely alligned ; all will be prim and trim.
Yeah, so – sorree everyone, but some days the blog is just going to be shit. Not my fault ; apparantly it's got something to do with the tide or the moon. I heard it was because of fluctuating nitrogen levels in the air, or too much pixels in the electricity. Hit me up with a cure. Peace out.