Friday, September 22, 2006

poor neglected blog

Oh poor neglected blog! Every time I walk past the computer I feel guilty - I think of all the crap in my head and say "head why can't you come up with something to say, or some ideas to work through, or some witty bit of something you read to relate to the internet?" and my head says "... think I'll wag my sewing class where I'm failing zipper insertion 101 (but getting advanced high distinctions in unpicking) so I can watch spicks 'n specks which I haven't seen in months". And then the cold hard reality that I've blown my broadband downloads and no longer have the patience to wait more than a second for anything, and should be writing that grant acquittal and should really be doing a whole bunch of other stuff takes over... and my poor blog disappears into distant recent memory.

To add to that tedious list of excuses dear blog I'v gone and got myself my first ever full time permanent job in the public service (woohoo), after thirty years of part-time casual three jobs at once or flat broke nothin' I'm adding another layer to the domesticated picture of Queanbeyan life. I now have the job, the mortgage, the knee-high grass (summer will take care of that), a wedding ring (post eleven years of living in sin), three chickens hanging round the five vehicles in the yard - and a front room full of drum kits and car parts. Neither of which I know anything about but the old man keeps himself busy doing mysterious stuff with them - right at this very moment he's sitting in the kitchen doing something to the mag wheels with the white walls on them.

Next time I'll revert to the intended subject matter - If I can remember what that was... (come on brain there's intelligent witty commentary in there somewhere...

2 comments:

Ampersand Duck said...

Well, at least with RSS feeds like Bloglines I can find out easily when you have the periodic blogfest!

Love that no-name art. Even a Small Work of Art would be a fun buy.

ellis hutch said...

Thanks! in some ways it's fortunate that there are none left - my art buying habit is getting out of control.