I have a cold.
This is my excuse, and it’s a good excuse. Me having a cold has three main effects on my life, and they are these:
One: It means the amount of tea I drink is the same, but the level of sugar goes up, and is occasionally supplimented by lemon_juice+honey+ginger+boiling_water. Also, my working environment is given a festive air as slowly drifts of used tissues build up and occasionally avalanche into other things.
Hang on, that was a second thing, wasn’t it? Okay, four main effects on my life.
The second, um, third, effect is a general inability to do anything, assisted by an increase in feeling sorry for myself.
Forth. Sod, There are five effects on my life.
Forth: Voice. My voice loses an octave. My voice does not have a surfit of octaves as it is, and so this tends to cause people to feel vaguely uncomfortable when I’m speaking to them…
I suffer from a condition known as “Butterfly Syndrome”. It’s a distinct ability to/curse of leaping from topic to topic without touching them for very long. Usually this happens mid-paragraph, but a cold shrinks my attention span to the point where I will frequently forget a sentance before I’ve reached the middle of it, and gone onto the sentance three steps down.
So I’ve gone from writing about quitting weblogging three steps down to the point where I make a sheepish return, without it ever appearing on the server. I’ve gone from the long tale about the death of reef, my main server, to having rebuilt it and composed two posts on the subject, though you never saw them.
So rest assured, I am journaling, It’s just that the entries aren’t escaping the bounds of my – quite literally – fevered imagination.