Slowly Sinking
Brace yourself. This blog post is going to consist mostly of random paragraphs covering each thing going on at the moment – mostly because I can't be bothered to manufacture any kind of structure prose around the chaotic nonsense that tends to surround me.
The cheap office chair I use in the study seems to be slowly sinking – a little at a time, until I begin to question if I am shrinking, or the world around me is getting bigger.
It's raining outside – the beginnings of a storm called “Dennis” that is sweeping across the country. If reports are to be believed, we may wake up tomorrow to a post-apocalyptic landscape. I'm hoping the devastation will be contained to a few big puddles, and perhaps some branches blown across the garden.
I am home alone, save for Miss 16. She is holed up in her room, gazing endlessly at her phone, surrounded by a world of clothes and assorted rubbish. I looked in on her earlier and asked if she might tidy up a bit. Her immediate response was loud, angry, and fierce – the usual reply to any request you get from a teenager when it involves any effort at all. I wonder if she realises that the habitability of her bedroom is directly linked to being allowed to use the computer in the study to play “Fortnite”? I'll let you know how spectacular her reaction is when it happens.
My other half is out with the other daughters (that sounds like the title of a pulp fiction book – “the other daughters”) looking at light fittings for the lounge. We are paying for an electrician to replace them – mostly so my other half can see what she's doing while knitting and watching television at the same time. Don't ask me how she's able to do that – I struggle to hold a conversation while doing up my shoelaces.
My mobile phone is slowly dying – or rather the battery within it seems to be. I could replace the phone entirely, but that means money, and there's a distinct shortage of that around here at the moment – on account of just signing on the line for all the windows to be replaced throughout our house. If I do manage to wangle some money to replace it, I have my eye on a possible handset. If not, I'll get a basic handset to carry around with me (so my family can text and call), and use my work phone for all things “social”.
Back at the start of 2018 I retreated to a basic phone for 6 months, and surprised myself with not really missing the various bells-and-whistles a modern smart-phone brings. Given that I use a Bullet Journal to organise my life, it's not that big a jump backwards for me – and may even help force me back towards getting some “proper” writing done.
I really am my own worst enemy when it comes to writing. I love the idea of writing some huge rambling magnum opus, but also know that I can spend twenty minutes writing a few paragraphs, and post them to the blog instantly. It's the literary equivalent of verbal diarrhea, isn't it.