It is a very ordinary day. It is 29 years since John Lennon was killed. It is winter and the darkness descends on us who live in the northern hemisphere...well, at least here. I am tired of having to come up with something for the blog. Maybe it is the winter, maybe it is me but I have been doing this for three years and sometimes I am not so very creative. It goes up and down and now I am fed up with trying to be clever.
No, I am not scrapping the blog, that's not what I am saying. I am trying to say that today I don't feel like blogging or writing about fantasies or anything. So I will tell you how boring I am.
Have been working a little from home today, I shouldn't complain, it is not too bothersome. This means I take my lunch at home, alone, take a walk in the park (to get out of the flat at least once a day). I have been emptying the dish washer and generally uncreating the mess that I always seem to leave behind. Staring at the almanac at the wall. It has pictures of ballet dancer and was a gift from my beloved husband. This month it is a male dancer and I realise that I don't fancy male dancers as much as the ballerinas. He looks kind of silly in a silly costume (ballet dancer, not husband), some kind of fancy bolero thing that would look strange on a woman but silly on a man. You see, I am not very free in my mind.
I am thinking of my latest blogpost, the one before this one. I thought people would be a little offended or hurt by it but instead they find it erotic or that sort of thing. And I am not the narrator, I never am. It is just that I like seeing things from the inside.
Never mind, this is becoming a rant and that was not my intention. Take care out there and be kind to yourselves and others.