A Blog Is For Life, Not Just For Christmas

Happy New Year everyone!

Exactly one year ago today, I entered the world of blogging, and I have to say it is one of the best things I have ever done.

That doesn’t mean that I think my blog is great, far from it in fact, but it has certainly been one of the most enjoyable projects I have undertaken in my 35 (soon to be 36) years on this planet.

I’ve always loved writing, ever since school, and it remains one of my ambitions to one day write a book. Unfortunately, while I strongly believe that I have the determination and patience to see it through (and, in some respects, persevering with this blog for a year has proved me right), I currently have no clue what the book could be about.

Non-fiction is probably out of the question. The only subject I really know enough about is me and my life, and who in their right mind would want to read that? Ok, I know that’s essentially what this blog is, but it’s a big jump from getting a few people to read your weekly rants, to publishing an autobiography when you’re not famous.

So, fiction it is then. In particular, I’ve decided I would ideally like to write for children or young adults, but at the moment I am entirely bereft of any original and exciting ideas to help me get started. I’ve sat and thought about it quite a lot, but nothing is jumping out at me. In desperation, I recently turned to Ollie for guidance (as he currently enjoys reading the likes of Roald Dahl and David Walliams – whose style is very similar, if not quite as good), to see what he thought Daddy’s book should be about.

Sadly, his first suggestion, which was of a boy who wins a competition to go to a chocolate factory, rang some plagiaristic alarm bells in my head, and when I dismissed this idea and his next words were “Ok, there’s this school for wizards…..” I decided it was best to ignore his advice if I wanted to avoid any legal entanglements. Bless him though, he tried.

I’m determined to do it though. Just one good idea, and I’ll sit down and write a book. Even if, like this blog, the full audience doesn’t get past the hundreds, I would still have an enormous sense of achievement in having seen it through to completion.

For now, though, while that one brilliant idea continues to elude me, I’m more than happy to continue blogging.

I know I will eventually run out of stuff to write about, or start repeating myself as the senility sets in, but I would hope that I have the good sense to call it a day long before that happens. I did contemplate whether I should stop at the end of last year, in case it became tedious – both for me to put together, and for people to read – but if I ever get close to it becoming a chore, or literally no one is reading, I’ll call it a day.

It might be that I post less frequently in the future, but I still have some things I want to get off my chest, and life is always bound to throw something shitty in my direction, that I can have a little rant about in-between.


(3 weeks later)

Ok, I wrote those opening paragraphs on 15th December (yes, I know I said ‘Happy New Year’, but I was planning ahead, ok?), and when I referred to life throwing something ‘shitty’ my way, I didn’t for one second suspect it would be actual shit.

You see, I had every intention of finishing off this entry by explaining my plans, hopes and dreams for 2016, and even though I knew my first week back at work would be busy, I was confident of finding some spare time in my lunch breaks to put the finishing touches.

Unfortunately, this plan (and, indeed, the first half of my week) was thrown into disarray in the early hours of Monday morning, when I was paid a visit by the ‘brown rain’.

I won’t go into detail, as you might be eating whilst reading this, but suffice it to say that, at approximately 5am on Monday morning, I awoke with a terrible stomach ache. I had been fine when I had gone to bed shortly after midnight, but I was now in agony. Thinking I was going to be sick, I dashed to the bathroom and knelt in prayer to the porcelain king, begging his forgiveness.

However, I quickly realised (almost too late), that the contents of my stomach would be making their exit via an alternative route, and I managed to get from kneeling to sitting in the nick of time.

Indeed, such was the violent force and velocity with which my body carried out Operation ‘Evacuate Stomach’, I promptly passed out on the bathroom floor. New low.

Over the course of the next few hours, this routine was replayed numerous times, and it became abundantly clear that I would not be going into work that day – my first day back after Christmas.

I therefore spent most of Monday in bed, unable to eat anything and extremely weak, and although I was back at work on Tuesday, the additional backlog (poor choice of words in the circumstances) of post and e-mails, was even worse than normal, thanks to my unexpected extra day of ‘holiday’.

As such, I have been working through my lunch breaks to try and catch up, rather than enjoying a bit of light blogging over a sandwich or Greggs pasty, and I therefore have very little else to offer you this week.

Fear not, normal service should be resumed shortly, both in terms of blogging and my bowels (note to self: Blogging and Bowels as a possible idea for autobiography one day), and I appreciate your understanding at this time.


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