Tag Archives: why is it so hard to write a diary?

Back from the dead



Dear God where have I been?!

Hello fellow blogospherers.

I am full of that insipid foisty guilt you feel when you discover a half filled journal at the bottom of your knicker drawer, and realise the keen ruminative diarist you imagined yourself being on January second has becoming yet another unfulfilled pipe dream in life’s smug chalkboard of disappointments.

Bad Maggie.

I’m not sure how or why I’ve been absent for the past six months – this blog was something that I’d become rather addicted too – and I certainly think it was helping me work through the mess of shite that poses as my life. I think all of that shite just rather got in the way and I fell out of the habit.

But here I am. I’m back. Hurrah.

Gosh – I’m close to deafened by the rapture of your silent applause. I hope some of you are still around – it was nice knowing my thought haemorrhaging was answerable to an invisible audience. I think it helped me be more objective about all the self pitying crap I inevitably at times resort to!

So what’s gone on in the past six months I hear you cry  – well the potted version:

Number of birthdays celebrated: 1

Number of years accrued that are now to be mourned: 29

Number of risable fringe productions playing a part I should have run a mile from: 1

Number of times I had to get my bottom out to London audiences: 36

Number of profitable adverts selling my soul and face in the promotion of slightly dubious products: 1

Number of months tormented by the a) piss taking of friends thanks to said dubious product touting, and b) being recognised in the street/bar/workplace as being the girl off ‘that’ ad: 3

Number of night courses taken: 1

Number of short lived jobs I’d rather not have taken: 15

Number of friends I’ve pissed off: 2

Number of soul mates I’ve not had contact with: 1

Number of shags*: 3 (and a half **)

Number of meaningful relationships: 0

[*for the sake of clarity by number of shags I mean number of men with whom I have engaged in the act of sexual intercourse, NOT how many acts of sexual intercourse have taken place. I am very happy to report that this amounts to far more than the said number.

** This shall be explained at a later date – but in this case I am referring to the sexual act as a fraction rather than the man. I did not shag a halfling. I’m tall – so this would be alarming and neck crunchingly awkward. And as much as a self professed geek as I am I would not take my love of Tolkein this far.]

Aaaaah so much to catch up on – and I shall – inevitably. But right now it just feels good to put fingers to keypad once more.

Laters potatoes

M xxxxx

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