I imagine posting became more and more delayed as I continuously intended to read more of Bleak House. No, now I trawl through the time-dust, I think I set it up out of vanity, out of a desire to mutter and vent about real life, or at least to speak plainly about it, but was spotted almost instantly.
Apparently I have a writing style and obviously its peculiar to me.
Presumably 'style' is a subjective term which may simply mean being peculiar.
I am (not) blogging somewhere else, and if you find me, its not really me, its me trying to be clever and to follow two separate sets of 'how to be an SEO whizz and make people like you until they buy stuff' instructions, one under a one-off payment and one under continuous licence (so at this rate THAT may not last very long...)
Look at it this way, as a special needs mum who's been parenting under 16s with issues for the past 27 years, I've been struggling along paying more attention to emotional health than financial for far too long.
I've also been a moderator / forum specialist at a homeworking advice site for four or five years, where the main focus has been on guiding noobs away from signing their life savings over to get-rich-quick schemes and promises of online typing jobs for a zillion dollars an hour 'if you'll just send us your house, your firstborn and your left foot to pay for this oh so secret information".
I may just be like one of those mental nurses who has spent too long in the asylum and starts to think that Rocking Johnny is making an awful lot of sense, or it may be that immersion eventually leads to discernment even for the very dense (case in point).
Either way, I am off on a jolly adventure, on a go-see learning curve. The proof of the pudding, etc etc.
At least I would be,
if my neighbour wasn't a sandwich short of a picnic,
if my son wasn't coming up to his annual statement review, his GCSE module exams, his college selections, his work experience,
if my daughter wasnt busting out all over and discovering not just boys but romance and deep sighs and hugs and giggle clusters and BFFs forever, and taking too many photos, and smuggling eyeliner to school
if my house didn't look like the burglars had been through and left again in disgust
if my mother wasn't old and sick and manipulative and also silent since my younger brother moved back in, and I can think of three entirely different possible reasons for that..
if I wasn't having far too much fun faffing about,
- rediscovering this blog,
- playing way too much Mafia Wars on facebook
- filling in funding applications for my volunteering thingy I do
- praying praying and praying (I find talking to God & general meditating makes much more sense than winging it)
- generally having an inner fight with myself about whether I am pretty darn special actually / oh no you're not you conceited, broke, middle aged fool who wont get off the computer chair.
So while I'm here I thought I might write a few 'how to's. Because someone said I should. I just wish I knew 'how to what', because as my 'real' life hasn't led to me a place where people rush to me for advice, I don't actually know what (if anything) I know, that others
a) don't, and
b) might want to.
Oh damn. I'm an eight hours kinda gal, but was up until 2 am filling forms on a deadline and up again at 6 to get the teenager out of his pit. He rolled back over and said that the thing he'd 'desperately needed to be up early for' could wait.
So I am definitely typing this on auto-pilot and may just about be making slightly less sense than the aforementioned Rocking Johnny who I imagine to wear a hospital gown and pick at his thumbnail a lot. In corners.
Does it show?
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