I have absolutely and utterly nothing to write about.
My mind is a blank (but you already knew that didn't you?)
Whilst my life does involve more than contemplating my navel and giving Humphrey pedicures - really do you want to hear about it?
Perhaps you'd like to know that I saw my pubic bone for the first time in a few years the other day (it wasn't for long, but I got a glimpse)?
How about my poor mother in law dredging the floor of my sons' room to see if anything of value can be salvaged before she brings in a skip?
Or how my poor mother in law dredged my tongue after the indelicacies that flew from it burned her eyelashes? (It wasn't directed at her mind, it was directed at The System).
Nah, didn't think so.
(Charlotte is partaking of a bit of study at the moment. Her head is full of words. Big words. Words that are generally not used in conversation. Words that need dictionaries. Words that need thesauruseseeseesses.
So many words whirling around up there in the space that should hold grey matter that said Charlotte feels her head might explode into alphabet bits)!
Don't ask what I'm studying. It is irrelevant due to the fact that I rarely finish anything I start - although I'm still married and my children haven't faded away from malnutrition. I am also still making my OUTRAGEOUSLYGOREOUSJEWELLERY! However study is now an important part of my life. I no longer prop up bars on a Saturday night or contribute to the purchase of Dino-the-night-club-owner's Porche every Thursday night. So why not put that time that would now usually be spent watching The Bill (I'm still plotting my revenge against those who axed that show) into studying? I can always cuddle my velour Sergeant Kryer pillow when I go to bed.
Early onset dementia is catching I've heard. I'm sure I've already got it. Today I lost a cheque walking from the house to the car! How is that possible? It is a rare talent.
A woman of my advanced years still needs to use her noodle in a cerebral context, hence the study. Hell, I might even end up with a job that pays well at the end of it - so I'm thinking neurosurgery or astrophysics.
I'm also a tad put-out dear reader. You refuse to leave me little love notes after you have read my missives.....or even hate mail for that matter.
Just a word mon cherie, will drag me from this fug.
I try but they dont stay put, just run madly into cyberspace
ReplyDeleteBrightened my otherwise dreary day xx Shellbell
ReplyDeleteThe world checks your blog daily, dear Charlotte.
ReplyDeleteDon't be put out, HTFU
:-)
Love it... shame about the cheque though! x
ReplyDelete