Have you caught a whiff of it too? The pungent stench of FAILURE?
Yes, my NaBloPoMo efforts have died in the arse. My site was out of action earlier this week due to a mysterious ailment but even before that I was already feeling ill at the prospect of coming up with another post. I was wandering the streets staring at mailboxes and bird shit and old grannies and takeaway curry joints, bleating pathetically, “Are you my blog entry?”.
And it got harder each day as it’s been getting dark earlier and earlier, so I had to squint at things.
I donated blood on Tuesday in the hope that something funny might happen, but nothing did. Except they didn’t have any tea. But that’s not funny, in fact it’s an outrage. What’s the point of bleeding if you don’t get a cuppa at the end of it? I had to settle for a Tunnocks Tea Cake, which was sickly and delicious.
So I think I will go back to my usual irregular sprouting off. I know it’s not really in the spirit of blogging, but I feel more comfortable with only piping up if/when the urge takes me. It’s hard enough to post once a week and convince people you’re not a boring bastard, but to do it every day you’re really sifting through the bottom of the budgie cage for material. NaNoWriMo on the other hand is trundling along nicely. Hurrah!