If I were to take a quick straw poll of average humans on an average day in Averageville (Popn: Lots) asking how they thought their lives could be improved I’m willing to bet (don’t quote me, I don’t have a lot of spare cash right now) an above average number would claim that the addition of stuff (or indeed, things) would be the way to go.
And they’d be wrong.
Poor, sweet, hypothetical fools.
Today marked the end of my fourth week in a new job. People change jobs all the time of course, but for me, smack in the middle of my forties and with no experience of life with another employer on the African continent it was quite a scary leap.
It’s the best decision I’ve made in a very long time.
Good to see I’ve chosen a title that breaks the Always Avoid Alliteration rule before I’ve even started.
I’m constantly amazed at the way unconnected threads find a way to weave themselves into a (hopefully cohesive) story.
I promised myself that tonight I would sit down and write a story. I haven’t written one for a couple of months and with each passing day the mountain was growing. As my day wore on I could feel myself getting edgy. What will I write? I don’t know where to start.
I’m not generally someone who holds much truck with fate and destiny but every now and then I’m convinced that some shards of storytelling magic poke their way into the world and demand to be listened to. Tonight was one of those nights.