I should write up my thoughts on the Olympics as they are now over.
I should mention that I managed a 15 minute jog this morning.
I could write something about the cat.
I could write something about my sister’s engagement (party next week).
I could write about the Wii Fit we were given as a present on Friday night.
I could write up how old my Gran is looking these days, and how many memories it brings back of watching my Grandpa slowly fade.
I could publish the beginnings of a rather crap short story I’ve had sitting in draft for months.
I should ask if anyone knows the maximum dimensions for hand luggage on a Ryanair flight.
But I can’t, I won’t.
This may be the fault of Twitter – if I’m updating there I’m still getting my ‘communicate with people online’ fix out of the way – or it may just be because I can’t be arsed.
No, that’s not true. It’s not because I don’t want to but because I just can’t seem to get started on anything. I had hoped procrastinating on the topic may have helped but, alas, no.
Next week will be a busy one, both at work and at home, so don’t expect much from me here. Mind you, no doubt I’ll be twittering for Scotland. Catch me there.