Less Is More. More Or Less.

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Sometimes, when I can’t think of anything to write about, I write about the fact that I can’t think of anything to write about. It’s a little self-contradictory but it solves a problem.

Equally, when I don’t really have time to write anything, I occasionally write about the fact that I haven’t got time to write anything, even though by writing about a lack of time to write anything, I am proving that I did have time to write something. Albeit something pointless.

The other solution would be to write nothing.

Which may be preferable in the short term but writing nothing on one occasion often leads to a longer-term scenario in which I write nothing for weeks on end.

Which is bad for me.

It may be less bad for you.

But this blog is an entirely self-indulgent affair, for the most part, so ‘bad-for-me’ is undesirable.

Then again, at the moment, I really am quite busy and being busy seems like a state of affairs which is likely to continue indefinitely.

Which means this blog is likely to take a ‘back seat’ unless I can think of a solution.

And one solution is to write shorter posts.

About not very much.

As opposed to long posts about not very much, which is my usual modus operandi.

So that’s probably what I’m going to do for a while.

Write short posts about not very much.

Like this one.

But maybe I’ll aim to make them better than this one.

Although they probably won’t be much better than this if I’m honest.

There’s Always A Bright Side

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It’s already five past eight
I’m running rather late
I overslept this morning
Ignored alarm clock’s warning

Had no time to eat my toast
Now coffee is the most
I’ll consume before my break
So I’ll be hungry but awake

And the traffic will be slow
But I’ll just go with the flow
There’s no point in getting stressed
(Did I remember to get dressed?)

It’s not been the best of starts
But I’ll try not to lose heart
If I can just survive the day
Then there’s always Beaujolais

T Is For Time

James Proclaims (4)

cooltext178900885104338Time.

I never seem to have any to do the things I want to.

I’m always busy doing other stuff.

Like work.

Or ironing shirts.

Shirts I wear to work.

Or sitting in traffic.

On my way to and from work.

I think what I’m saying is that work gets in the way of me having time to do other stuff.

But today is Saturday and I don’t have to work.

I could have spent today doing any one of a multitude of things that would make my life better.

I could have started that novel I claim I’m going to write.

I could have studied those languages I claim I’m going to master.

I could have gone to the gym and trained to become the elite specimen I know I’m never actually going to be.

Instead I spent the last two and a bit hours watching Star Wars.

Time well spent.

 

 

 

A Bibliophile Bemoans Being Busy

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I often claim I like to read
When I have time to kill
A novel is the ideal thing
If I have hours to fill

I like all kinds of fiction
Few genres make me frown
I’m really not too fussy
I’ll even read Dan Brown Continue reading A Bibliophile Bemoans Being Busy

Alice Accepts Her Fate

“You’ve got to live life to the full,” Pete declared, through mouthfuls of chicken and leek pie, “you could get hit by a bus tomorrow and kablam! Then it’s all over before you even realise what’s happened!”

Alice knew her brother meant well, though he could have chosen a better example to support his argument. The village of Nettleton hadn’t had a bus service in over twenty years, so the odds of being hit by one seemed fairly minimal. Heavy-duty agricultural vehicles were another matter entirely… Continue reading Alice Accepts Her Fate