Is it that time?

Time gallops on doesn’t it?

Where do the 60 seconds, 60 minutes, 24 hours, 7 days, 52 weeks, 365 (let’s not involve ‘leap years’ in this, what’s all that about?) days go?

The most sensible thing I can think of is: we all may be getting ‘older’, at least we are all getting old at the same pace.

So what’s this all about? Yep, things move on, life can pass you by and some parts just too quickly.

Those reading this will know I like a wee blether. No, maybe that’s not right. I like to blog. From a very early age I kept a diary. Oh good god. I know I have them somewhere. When college and erm….. um…. STUDYING got in the way, I kind of forgot about keeping a diary. In those days I had a good old fashioned typewriter. That’s so long ago that my little iPhone doesn’t know the predictive text for ‘typewriter’ – it’s still thinking ‘WTF?’!

It bloody knows to predict ‘i’ ‘phone’ with a lower case ‘i’ and a capital blooming ‘P’. Too clever. Typewriter? Forget it!

So here I am.

It was a diary / journal and a pen that I used. I still use pens. Those of you who know me even slightly know that I have a ‘thing’ about pens. If you want me to be a really happy person, buy me a pen. Not just any pen. It has to work, it has to feel good, and it needs to be smooth. If it’s pretty, even better!

Then there’s paper. It has to feel good, it has to be smooth…. See a pattern developing here?

I have a large collection of both.

Books. Let’s cover that whilst I am here. I love a new book. Smooth, feels good, smells good. Hell mend anyone that breaks the spine, turns down pages, writes in it or generally wrecks a book. Especially if it’s mine. If you do that, don’t worry you will be buying me a new one. Steal my pens? You die! Simple.

Grrrrr…. I was so on the verge of putting an ‘s’ on the end of that paragraph. Adverts, damn it. Hearing the “Oh, …… YES” and that irritating darn car insurance company, you know the operatic singer with the stick on moustache….. It has the same effect as hearing the Eastenders theme tune starting on the TV. I literally SPRINT for the remote. How annoying, the whole damn lot of them. Meerkats however, do have a certain cuteness.

So….. On that note….

Is it that time? Have I had enough hints that I need to start a ‘daily blog’, indeed, write a book.

Oh for goodness sakes, get a life. The only way that would happen would be if I could invent a book that would come equipped with an indestructible cover, a place for a pen and a slot for a post-it pad. Hmmm…. Maybe I can see myself on Dragon’s Den for about 2 minutes, unless of course someone with a financial brain is willing to step up there and do the negotiating, whilst I go play in the corner with my pen and post it pads, it ain’t going to happen. Now, that would be fun. Let me do the ‘book, pen and post-it-pad’ bit. Someone else can do the money crap. Anyway, who needs their money? Ok, don’t analyse that statement too much!

There have been one or two of my best friends that have suggested I should ‘go for it’.

I can’t decide what to do. What I do know is, I have the best ‘tool’ to do it, my wee iPhone. Also, (every day is a school day) it’s better to post ‘portrait’ rather than ‘landscape’. You get less RSA. It’s a fact.

It’s one thing ‘going public’, however, where do you ‘draw the line? When do you share the little things that happen? When do you tell the toilet stories? Should I share all of them? Should I share ANY of them?

Oh hell, there I go, I won’t dump the toilet stories on you, that could be messy and FAR TOO MUCH detail.

There is a time when you have to share the fact we had 4 toilets blocked to over flowing the other day. WHAT DO WOMEN STUFF DOWN TOILETS?!?!?! Actually, we had a woman lose her keys down the bog. Really, she did. She was as stuck as her keys. No keys, no car. It explained the blocked bog the next morning.

It’s another thing entirely to share ‘toilet habits’, unless it’s your partner or your best friend, some things just shouldn’t be shared. Yes, (you know who you are) that includes sharing your smelliest, noisiest farts. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes you sound like you need incontinence knickers, other times I just want to call an ambulance.

Where do you draw the line? What do I post? What pictures do I publish? Do I do a personal diary? Do I do a ‘work’ thing? Do I do a combination of the whole lot? Oh, the choices.

There’s also the problem with the English.

STOP! I don’t mean those that live in ‘English-shire’, I mean, the English language. I got my higher English. Don’t ask me how it works though. What I do know is that txt spk doesn’t work for me, and thankfully most of my pals. You have the planet at your fingertips….. a full QWERTY keyboard and you still don’t use all the keys. Get a life.

Then there’s America, suggesting that they are going to scrap writing lessons, and replace them with key board lessons. Do they not get power cuts there? Oh, they did this week, how will they survive?! Do stamps and greeting cards not exist? How do they sign their names? Oh, of course, they don’t need to sign, they just whip out their passport!

See, now I have started, I won’t know when to stop.

It’s time. I don’t quite know WHAT I am going to write, I think I will just write, following my instinct and see if I can do what I am being encouraged to do. Write ‘the’ book.

Do I work on the title first or the content?

Never mind that. Who will care if I do write a book? I have however had the offer of a Manager and a Copy Editor. That’s a good start.

Luck? Might need it!