Tugging On Socks As We Speak

I know I’ve not really been in attendance on this blog lately. In the East 17 of weblogs I have been one of those two guys whose sole jobs in the band seemed to be to always make sure their heads were shaven, and then stand around making hand gestures while the other two were singing.

The Masters course seems to actually expect me to put in some work. The vagaries of household living mean that when I intend to be making a blog entry, I somehow find myself thrusting a brush up and down a toilet instead. After making attempts to maintain some sort of social life, I find I have no time left to write about said attempts. My attempts to maintain a fulfilling private life are probably my most successful, but those are sappy and don’t make for good blog material.

This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop writing here at all – it’s just an admission of a couple of weeks of crapness, and a statement of intention to pull my proverbial socks (still featuring toes) up. A critical mass of little things are begging to be thought about, and read about, and listened to, and written about, and at some point soon I’ll manage to give them an outlet.