Reading back over entries on this blog – now approaching two years of age – there’s a definite, linear path of progression to its mood. I’m not going to get mired down (again) in reasons why, but it’s been a slip from happy-go-lucky attempts to make myself and others laugh, with added HILARIOUS imagery, to now.
What is now? Now it seems to be a constant battle to think of something to say beyond “I am pissed off with everything”. Now it seems to be a struggle to come up with a throwaway, but quite funny blog. Now I can’t write something like the break up letter to LoveFilm, or the gender politics thing, or anything else.
I say can’t – that’s the wrong word. Of course I can. I just haven’t thought to do it, either because I’ve been a terrible arsehole this year or because I just don’t have the time or inclination, what with endless swathes of writing taking up most of my waking hours. Being a bit of a smartarse, or cute, or even funny just feels like way too much effort.
Yet I still don’t want to pack this in. I want to hit the two year mark. I made the decision to go on for another year – I remember it well, talking about it in Swissland as if it was actually a decision that mattered (clue: other things mattered more OPPS) and doing that thing where I make a promise to myself I’ll do something and actually doing it.
So here we are. Three-and-a-bit months left to go. I’m going to do it. You’re going to see more entries like this, where I question the point of it and complain my standards have slipped. Who knows how much farther they’ll slip? Who knows what mood I’ll be in by January 2012?
That’s not rhetorical, by the way. I want to know who knows.
Good god it’s maddening. I can actually see how much happier I was last year just through looking at the words. Just from seeing what the topics are. Frivolity, gaiety and humorously aggressive complaints were the name of the game. Now? Complaining, half-arsed entries, bad moods and headaches.
Ah well, bedtime.
2 of 14 catch up entries to go.