Spectral Mist

The main problem with not planning these posts is they don’t make for very easy reading. Rather than a smooth transition between paragraphs, or even sentences, you get jarred, jolted. It’s like going along a bumpy road with seemingly no end in sight. So, while I endeavour to keep the spontaneity of my posts, I’ll try to iron out the metaphorical creases as best I can. Hopefully this will make this blog easier to read. With that bit of preamble out of the way, let’s get on with the show.

I say show, it isn’t really a show, it’s more a static image of what I’ve typed. Theoretically, I could film myself typing this and post it up and then it could possibly be a show, but it wouldn’t be very exciting. Since it’s just an image of what I’ve typed though, expectations of being entertained are considerably lower, so I stand a better chance of being entertaining. Make sense? Oh well, so much for ironing out the creases.

This should now be the point where I say - “And speaking of creases…” – and then carry on seamlessly (see what I did there? Crease? Seam? No?). However, I really can’t think of something relating to creases, so I’m just going to sit back and marvel at the fact that I’ve managed to keep writing this blog for a whole week. I really never thought that I’d keep it up, but to be honest, I’m finding it quite cathartic. It’s getting some of this mess in my head untangled, though given the messiness of the posts thus far, I’m beginning to wonder just how it’s doing that. Don’t worry, the rest of this post won’t just be …………… as I reflect on my unkempt thoughts, I will actually be putting some of these thoughts down.

One thing that’s been on my mind of late, as I’m sure it’s been on a lot of people’s minds, is the snow. It’s not the abundance of it, but the lack of it. Having watched the news where a lot of the country has been covered in a thick blanket of snow, I feel somewhat deprived living in one of the few places that hasn’t got any. Well, that’s not strictly true. There’s snow on the mountains, and we had one day where we did have some low-lying snow. It just seems disproportionate to what other places are getting. I realise it makes travel difficult, that people are struggling to get to work, that people are slipping and injuring themselves, but these are the same people who were disappointed we didn’t get a white Christmas (which is determined by whether or not a single snow flake falls on a particular roof in London, I forget which one). It’s snow! It gives that sense of nostalgia and that bubbling up of the child in us that make us happy! Why complain? If you’re constantly slipping, get some crampons. If you can’t get to work, play in the snow, make the most of it. Seriously, people get so stressed with work these days that surely any reprieve should be welcomed with open arms.

Speaking of work (and that’s the last time I’ll use the phrase “speaking of” to link two paragraphs together, honest), I have now given my details to so many companies, recruitment agencies, and graduate schemes that I really can’t remember them all. I’m sure a lot of people have done this, but I can’t help but get the feeling that my name appears in so many places that some people will begin to think I’m famous, hire me as, I don’t know, a news-reader on some random channel whose main demographic don’t want to watch the news, at least not in the way that that channel portrays it, be blamed personally for the lack of rise in viewing figures rather than the channel’s admin thinking it’s getting something wrong, get fired without any redundancy package whatsoever and be known thenceforth as “that bloke who couldn’t read news properly” and cry every time I hear the words “channel 5 news”. I admit that’s not very likely at all. I wouldn’t cry at the words, just send a series of polite emails with barely contained anger attempting to get between the lines. And I’ve just realised that most of the paragraph has been one sentence, for which I apologise (in part to my fingers, which I shall now rest).