It’s the final day of work before Christmas, and I find myself at something of a loose end. I’m attempting a little “housekeeping” with the work computer (which really means zipping up tens of gigabytes of virtual machines, and moving them to network storage - but you don’t really want to know about that, because it will cause you to fall asleep standing up - which is probably quite dangerous).
Anyway. Here I am. It’s Friday 23rd December, and I’ve already begun writing a new blog, on a new platform, and seem to be attracting new readers every day. It’s all tremendously exciting. I know I talked about waiting until the new year to decide about ditching the old blog (and it’s contents) but anybody who’s been reading my garbage for any time will know that you shouldn’t take any notice of me.
At some point over the christmas break I really should figure out what I’m going to do with the megabytes of blog history I have, sat dormant in a WordPress export file (over 3000 posts worth!). Nine years of my life. I can’t import them into wordpress.com because it will set off every alarm in sight, and ban me from every search result. The platform was never built to deal with an idiot like me.
In other news, I feel distinctly second hand this morning - it may or may not have something to do with friends coming round last night, and me drinking two thirds of a bottle of wine before they even arrived. Thankfully I avoided the red wine later in the evening, and went off to make everybody tea and coffee. Does that mean I’m getting sensible in my old age, or just old and boring… when you know you have work in the morning, you know how much you’ve had to drink, and you know if you drink any more you’ll pay for it. Yep. Mr Boring.
The days when I could get away with drinking bottles of wine on nights out have long gone. So has the opportunity to lie in bed until lunchtime on the morning after a night out. This morning I woke to the local radio station from the alarm clock at 7am, and discovered our regular six year old blonde morning visitor, tucked between us. Quite how she sneaks into the bed early in the morning without waking us is a mystery… there was no sign of ropes, or pulleys, or anything.