I get very wistful for the good old days of blogging (2005) back when things had a freewheeling, experimental air. It was confessional (as long as you had a secret identity), hilarious (as long as you were funny) but usually compelling (as long as you had work you were avoiding). I keep thinking that I need to go retro on here, but the problem is that I don’t often do anything interesting.

Take today for example. I woke up at 6:40am to a screaming cat (she’s not supposed to start screaming until 7am, which she well knows), but managed to pretend to be asleep long enough for my wife to get up and feed her. I successfully convince myself that I’m helping both of them as I do so.

I have a coffee, followed by a shower, followed by another coffee. This will be all the coffee that I drink today as I try to manage my consumption of coffee. I could probably handle a third cup, but the danger is that I wouldn’t be able to stop, until I resembled nothing more than a jittering ball of static in the corner of the room.

I try and do some work that I need to do, that I should have done some weeks ago, but have cheerfully been able to set aside knowing that the deadline was ages away, until one day I realised that it was no longer ages away. It is nearly 1pm, I shall shortly have lunch.