Somehow itas almost 1am on Friday night (or should that be Saturday morning?). Where does the time go? Iam struggling to cast my mind back over the last few days a to find anything of interest.
Life has been a bit like that recently a dragging myself from one day to the next, and not really being able to put the pieces together afterwards. The weekend away at my parents seems like a long time ago.
Iave been slowly moving towards content authoring at work a writing stories for the website and the various social media channels weare starting to explore. Itas funny really a all the years emptying my head into the keyboard have resulted in some recognition at last that Iam not bad at it. I think the hardest thing to get across to those scheduling me is that writing takes time a it needs to be scheduled a itas not easy.
Away from work the house continues to drag itself from one day to the next without completely falling down. We had a gas engineer visit this week to service our central heating. Upon finding out I immediately set about tidying the house from top to bottom a lest the engineer think we live in a house thatas just been burgled. After moving heaven and earth for a couple of hours, and making numerous trips to the bins outside with bags full of rubbish from teenage girl bedrooms, I collapsed in front of my work computer and waited.
The engineer didnat check any of the rooms.
During the last visit the engineer had checked the radiators throughout the house a this time they didnat. I might have said a few choice words when I found out.
At least the house got tidied up. Of course by the next day the teenagers had waved their magic wand again, and weare back to where we started a but for a couple of hours the other morning a while I was the only one in a the house wasnat half bad.
| While I often rail against the piles of astuffa all over the house a making it look untidy a in a strange sort of way I wouldnat have it any other way. Weare all interested in different things, are involved in different hobbies, take part in different things, and so on. The house reflects that. I would hate if we lived in a spartan, tidy, empty house. Thereas a story to be told about pretty much any corner of any room in our house a or at least the stuff stacked in that corner a or the other corner a or over there a or under thata | you get the idea. |
Anyway.
Itas getting late. I want to get up in the morning to watch the racing cars in Australia. The F1 circus has arrived in Melbourne. I know somebody in Melbourne a I wonder how she is? I should reach out.
Iam terrible at reaching out. With so many things going on all the time around me, I often get swept up in what everybody else needs, rather than what I might like to be doing. Iam trying to push back against that a little bit, but itas hard a itas not in my nature.