Changing times

Well, it's kinda like this: I once wrote a blog with monotonous regularity and made sure that it was updated every day, rain, shine or life's little dramas. Then my workload at the paper I just quit increased and inspiration levels sank, which made the updates a whenever-possible affair. And now that I am home for a while, I decided it was time to restart what I had let go. Even if nobody reads this, it is a way to communicate whatever I want to say, when I want to say it.

And this time there is a slight difference. Where I once crafted my writing rather more carefully and made sure that it was spell checked and evenly punctuated and all that good stuff, now I am doing it directly online, which is a greater challenge. You make more mistakes if you are just bashing away, with the occasional feline walking nonchalantly over your keyboard or the mobile bings in a message just when you are stuck for things to say, which sends your spellings and your memory of what you had been saying far into the blue yonder...see now, I forgot what I was saying!

And all that apart, I no longer have to hear suggestions from anyone about what I should write and how. Nobody who is doing nothing with their lives that is of any use or joy to anyone else can tell me what to do and say, which many have tried, trust me, and not exactly succeeded. And whether I want to talk about people I used to know, people not worth knowing or people who should be part of my 'I-know' circle is my business. Yeah, sore point there. I dislike wofflers and cowards and anyone who does nothing to get what they want but talk endlessly about anything, no matter that the listeners are bored and being polite in at least pretending to listen! Another sore point. But leave those behind and get with it, right?

I am very getting with it these days. And loving it. The first thing I did when I was finally out of my job was to update the various address books I have. All extra numbers were deleted from my mobile and those zillions of scraps of paper with numbers scribbled on them were carefully checked for what I wanted to keep, the numbers transcribed into a stout diary and the fragments tossed. I found many people who were, effectively, ships that passed through my life and out for ever, some with a mild feeling of regret, many with a sense of relief. One or two I will talk about tomorrow. For now, I plan to take my sabbatical seriously and take a nap!