To blog or not to blog
That, obviously, is the question.
I find, astonishingly, that it's almost a month since last I bothered you both with my inane self-absorbed witterings. Is this because I don't love you any more? Or maybe that I've run out of things to say? Perhaps my life is so unutterably dull that even I can't bring myself to bore you with it. Or perhaps I've just been too busy.
Most likely it's a combination of all of the above (apart from the not loving you any more bit). And a great deal of not being able to settle my mind on any one thing. At the moment I'm trying to sell the house I'm living in, which most psychologists will tell you is the second most stressful thing you can do in your life after getting married. I'm also trying to organise moving back to Fife and starting farming, which means sorting out a lot of paperwork at the moment, but will mean sourcing livestock and other farming essentials soon. And there's the small matter of building a house once we're up there (since my little brother inherited the farmhouse - it's a complicated story), which means plans and planning applications. And as if that wasn't enough, we're still arguing with Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs about the exact amount of inheritance tax still to be paid. I warn you now - don't die, it's incredibly expensive.
On top of that little lot, I'm trying to write a book. I say trying to write, because 'writing' would imply that some words were being typed on a regular basis. When I do write, I can bang them out as quick as the best, but lately that's not been happening more than once or twice a week.
Oh, and there's paid work too, which is nice, but which also gets in the way of all the other things that need doing.
Time was I could multi-task without a second thought. I'd happily juggle a dozen different jobs and think nothing of taking on a dozen more. But lately I've found it very difficult to concentrate on anything for very long. This post, for instance, was started many hours ago, and in between paragraphs, sentences and sometimes even words, I've flitted onto other things as my mind wanders. My mental discipline is a total mess, and my productivity has vanished as a result.
I'm not sure what caused this descent into chaos. The house move and rebuilding work probably didn't help, and neither did my parents' untimely death. This is a period of great change in my life, and I could just blame that.
So maybe that's what I'll do.
I find, astonishingly, that it's almost a month since last I bothered you both with my inane self-absorbed witterings. Is this because I don't love you any more? Or maybe that I've run out of things to say? Perhaps my life is so unutterably dull that even I can't bring myself to bore you with it. Or perhaps I've just been too busy.
Most likely it's a combination of all of the above (apart from the not loving you any more bit). And a great deal of not being able to settle my mind on any one thing. At the moment I'm trying to sell the house I'm living in, which most psychologists will tell you is the second most stressful thing you can do in your life after getting married. I'm also trying to organise moving back to Fife and starting farming, which means sorting out a lot of paperwork at the moment, but will mean sourcing livestock and other farming essentials soon. And there's the small matter of building a house once we're up there (since my little brother inherited the farmhouse - it's a complicated story), which means plans and planning applications. And as if that wasn't enough, we're still arguing with Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs about the exact amount of inheritance tax still to be paid. I warn you now - don't die, it's incredibly expensive.
On top of that little lot, I'm trying to write a book. I say trying to write, because 'writing' would imply that some words were being typed on a regular basis. When I do write, I can bang them out as quick as the best, but lately that's not been happening more than once or twice a week.
Oh, and there's paid work too, which is nice, but which also gets in the way of all the other things that need doing.
Time was I could multi-task without a second thought. I'd happily juggle a dozen different jobs and think nothing of taking on a dozen more. But lately I've found it very difficult to concentrate on anything for very long. This post, for instance, was started many hours ago, and in between paragraphs, sentences and sometimes even words, I've flitted onto other things as my mind wanders. My mental discipline is a total mess, and my productivity has vanished as a result.
I'm not sure what caused this descent into chaos. The house move and rebuilding work probably didn't help, and neither did my parents' untimely death. This is a period of great change in my life, and I could just blame that.
So maybe that's what I'll do.
Comments
i for one check in from time to time just to see what your latest rant is about!
life can be a tough, starched, cookie somedays...
:-)
--hw
life does stretch us to the limit now and then.
and you have been, and continue to stretch.
once a month or even less is just fine. it's your blog!