Pride and Procastination

Writing is not easy.

I’ve had all week to write this blog and do you know when I started? This morning. I’ve had it in the back of my mind all week but the actual writing started this morning.

Even then it was a mission to start.

I woke up this morning at around seven as I have seemed to over the last few months which really is annoying me (I am going to have to take up computer games again so that I stay up later and waste the morning with sleep).

I rolled over checked facebook, and thought about starting to write.

I wrote a sub-par blog about a dream I had in which Hugh, Jack Bauer and I were trying to siege a pirate ship that was atop a tall hill. But in the end of the dream we got distracted by cheap tickets to snow planet (what there was a stall on the side of the road leading up to the pirate ship castle). There was also a nice scene were mine and Hugh’s families came together and had dinner, godfather style, not knowing that the others father was the leader of the opposite army (don’t ask who’s dad was in charge of the pirate ship castle we were trying to siege, I wish I knew). There was also a shotgun convention.

As you can see while my dreams are cinematic, complex and twisted like a Kubrick film they don’t make the best reading (however I decided to turn it into a play and if I ever get it past act one you can all have a read.).

So I put some pants on, watched some discovery. Made some toast and thought long and hard about what I wanted to write about, well that’s a lie. I thought long and hard about a witty title that references a famous piece of literary work that would make me seem smarted and more learned than I actually am.

So after an hour or so of clicking anything and everything that was blue and even remotely interesting on wikipÆdia I had done nothing except waste another hour of my morning.

With a hangover in full effect and my breakfast beer empty I knew something had to be done and fast.

So back on went the pants and down stairs I went to retrieve a breakfast cider (because another beer would make me and alcoholic).

My voyage of self and cider discovery was interrupted on the way back to my room, and freedom once again from my accursed pants, by discovery channel.

All I have to say about that is Bear Grylls is dreamy and that I could probably get away with killing someone.

After returning to my room I decided a run would clear my head and do me some good. I put on some laundry and decided a run was like a gym and a tan so I have my vitamin G.T.L for the day (Jersey Shore was also on this morning).

I went for a run and thought further about my blog.

I thought of all the high-minded things I could talk about and then I thought of how hard it is to think of high-minded things.

So I got home and started to write this.

I really wanted to leave a pinter-esk ending in which you as an audience didn’t know what the hell was going on but I though I better give you something to think about.

So here it goes.

Writing is hard. You actually have to sit down and do it when the world has so much more it wants you to do.

But if you enjoy it you’ll do it.

Because at the end of the day it’s something to do.