According to Nadia, while the men of the world grow mustaches this November, the women of the world are blogging every day. Well, maybe not exclusively the women, and probably not all of them. But all the cool ones are, and if all the cool ones are, then like the lemming I am, I will too.
Now, it should be pointed out that I am already starting out a failure, having missed yesterday. However, someone on Facebook quoted someone famous who said something smart like, "I haven't failed yet. I've just ..." Oh wait. I just looked it up and it doesn't apply. But the point is, I'm going to be okay with an imperfect start because of course, I subscribe to the theory that one ought to start as one intends to go on (some of you may remember this).
A difficulty with committing to daily blogging is coming up with daily thoughts. So my plan is to write down at the very least, what we had for dinner. If I can come up with more, all the better, but I only committed to daily, not interesting, so ... there.
Tonight's dinner with my two ailing children (T: cold, N: croop) and their long-suffering father was tortellini and sauce.
Expect big things tomorrow. Deep thoughts about a wonderfully prime number: 37.
1 comment:
Oh dear. Don't write down 37. 36 bugged me the whole day. It is just so freakin old. Seriously. Old. The kind of old that is so old that young people don't even notice you are there. Not even on the radar.
Now you've got me doing advance worrying from now to May. 30 didn't bother me at all. Looks like at 40 I might be having a mid-life crisis. Are women allowed one of those?
Post a Comment