I disconnected the automagic plumbing between WordPress, Tumblr, and Substack this morning. No more “read more here” links. You just get to read my idiocy wherever you happen to read. It takes me a few moments to paste my words and hit publish.
In a perfect world, WordPress, Tumblr, Blogger, and Substack would be one entity – but we don’t live in a perfect world, so I find myself straddling awkwardly across several platforms – mostly because I have friends in each place and guilt myself into never walking away.
It’s Tuesday morning. I’m back at work – whatever “back” means any more. I suppose for me it means I’m sitting in the study, pretending to be busy. Filling in timesheets, sitting in conference calls, writing documents, and trying to appear knowledgeable. It all feels a bit strange.
My eldest daughter is two days into her new job. We are crossing all of our fingers and toes, which means it’s quite difficult to get the most simple tasks done. The last few years have been a bit of an adventure for her to say the least. It’s funny really – this “bringing up children” lark – all you can really do is set an example, and be there to pick them up and dust them down when things go wrong. I suppose realising that everybody falls down from time to time is a good lesson too.
I’m writing this at lunchtime, if you’re wondering. I just stuffed a hot-cross-bun in my face, mostly because I can’t be bothered to make something properly. Spotify is playing a James Taylor playlist in the background. It was suggested to me – I couldn’t be bothered to look up anything else. I tend to find choosing music somewhat stressful, so usually go with whatever the algorithm in the cloud has chosen for me.
I shaved my hair off again yesterday with the clippers. I’m back to looking like a skinhead, but at least it’s better than looking like a toilet brush. After finishing the job while bent over double in the middle of the garden (to avoid hair falling inside my clothes), I still had to have a shower – it turns out small pieces of hair are the itchiest substance in the known universe. While drying myself off, I burst out laughing at my reflection in the mirror – although I had next to no hair left, I had huge eyebrows. I looked like a Thunderbird puppet.
I should really go and make something proper to eat. I think there are some leftovers in the fridge from dinner last night.