Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man
Shakespeare, King John, Act3 scene 4
God I'm bored. Days alone typing wads of copy, and having no energy at all due to stupid prostatitis, antibiotic horse pills etc. I loathe myself when I'm like this. And when I'm not feeling bored, I am feeling frustrated with being so run down that I can't go to the gym. Getting fatter by the hour.
First lot of erection copy sent off this morning. Spent the rest of the day getting my grey matter around the next tranche of ailments.
Spoke on the phone to Lorraine and my mum. Explained in some detail to both how bored I was.
There was an hour when I wasn't bored. I broke off for a walk down to a sea. It was smooth. Then I bought an egg cup. And returned home to talk to my kitten. I installed the new magnetic catflap, which only involved 2-3 bouts of swearing. Calliope hates it.
In the evening prepared an entry for the Poetry Business Competition - for short collections. So I'm entering Twister. For some reason you need to use a pseudonym. Mine was Paul Carey. I once had a dream where there lots of rubbish in the wind and people were saying to one another apprehensively "Paul Carey's coming" and pointing to a distant tramp like figure. On consulting the dictionary for dreamers I decided that Paul Carey was the name of my shadow. It was as good as any other pseudonym.
Still being aquarium installation hotline for Beth which is slightly less boring. She sent me a photo from her phone. It looks nice.
After preparing the manuscript, I tried to download a new audiobook from Audible. The site was achingly slow, and I got too bored to continue.
Went to bed.
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man
Shakespeare, King John, Act3 scene 4
God I'm bored. Days alone typing wads of copy, and having no energy at all due to stupid prostatitis, antibiotic horse pills etc. I loathe myself when I'm like this. And when I'm not feeling bored, I am feeling frustrated with being so run down that I can't go to the gym. Getting fatter by the hour.
First lot of erection copy sent off this morning. Spent the rest of the day getting my grey matter around the next tranche of ailments.
Spoke on the phone to Lorraine and my mum. Explained in some detail to both how bored I was.
There was an hour when I wasn't bored. I broke off for a walk down to a sea. It was smooth. Then I bought an egg cup. And returned home to talk to my kitten. I installed the new magnetic catflap, which only involved 2-3 bouts of swearing. Calliope hates it.
In the evening prepared an entry for the Poetry Business Competition - for short collections. So I'm entering Twister. For some reason you need to use a pseudonym. Mine was Paul Carey. I once had a dream where there lots of rubbish in the wind and people were saying to one another apprehensively "Paul Carey's coming" and pointing to a distant tramp like figure. On consulting the dictionary for dreamers I decided that Paul Carey was the name of my shadow. It was as good as any other pseudonym.
Still being aquarium installation hotline for Beth which is slightly less boring. She sent me a photo from her phone. It looks nice.
After preparing the manuscript, I tried to download a new audiobook from Audible. The site was achingly slow, and I got too bored to continue.
Went to bed.
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