Thursday, April 29, 2010

A blog post not worth reading

Well, blow me down with a feather… my blogging mojo has totally deserted me of late and I have nothing… yes, that’s right… nothing to write about. Or at least if I do, I can’t think of it right now.

So, I am forcing this blog post out – which is doubtless going to be a very crap read, so apologies in advance – because each day for yonks I’ve been saying to myself “what can I write today?” and have come up with a bit fat zilch.

I’ve been in a rotten mood for at least the past fortnight, for one reason or another, and this could have something to do with my lack of writing ability; the cause of it I mean, not a symptom of. I’m one of these folk who struggles to write positive prose when I’m in a grump so I tend not to bother at all. It’s that old phrase my mum used to say to us as kids “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all”. Replace “say” with “write” and that’s where I’m at. Over Christmas I sank into such a depression that I couldn’t write a single word, I didn’t even tweet for fear of the misery that would pour from my keyboard. I’m not a manic depressive or anything, don’t get me wrong, but my moods do impact on my ability to string written sentences together.

That said, I do blame Twitter for my blogging dearth. In part, at least. I’m so busy tweeting pointless bits of information at all times of day that I’ve stopped thinking in more than bitesize chunks. Any thought or opinion that extends beyond 140 characters seems to fizzle out and this isn’t so good for blogging. I’ve also started to think about my tweets too (probably ‘cos of my bad mood and not wanting it to rub off on others) and pre-planning tweets is just crap. Then, when I think about it too much reality hits me and I realise I have nothing much to say at all.

I’m sure that’s not strictly true, but still. I haven’t been able to conjure up a single creative blog post for what seems like yonks and it’s starting to do my head in. I could ramble on about the election and how my interest in politics is barely a flicker. Yes, I know, politics is all around us but it’s still all bollocks. So I don’t want to write about the election or the fact Grumpy Gordon called someone a bigot and made a bit of a twat of himself yesterday. I don’t want to write about my netball antics and how I struggled to play on Tuesday because my tea of pizza and giant chocolate buttons weighed me down, or that last week I dived (got confused with volleyball I think – that’s my only explanation) and now have a pair of scabby knees like a kid who’s fallen over in the playground. And neither to I want to turn into a cheesy bridezilla and blog about my forthcoming nuptuals or how blissfully happy I am with my chosen life partner (which is true); it’s just sickening and no one wants to read that.

So what’s left? I could out all my friends and blog about their recent trials and tribulations, which wouldn’t be very nice, or I could bore people with work stuff and I have nothing exciting to report on that front either. I could pick up on something from the national news but my news sense seems to be waning lately, as does my brain capacity. I think what I need is a new challenge. My brain needs to be flexed and I need to have order in my life.

So, after three days in Dorset and next week off work spring cleaning my flat, my diet, my mood and pretty much everything, I’m hoping to get back on track with this writing malarkey and produce a blog post actually worth reading. Unlike this one.

Picture by dbdbrobot and taken from Flickr