My father was procrastinating at work earlier (now he definitely can’t talk when I’m prevaricating myself) and googled my blog, and found me. A) I’ve googled myself in the past and not found this blog, no matter what I put into google, and B) I don’t know how I feel about him finding this blog. It’s not like I say anything on it that I don’t want him to see, but but I want to be able to write things up here which I don’t have to think about too much. I don’t want to be too self-censoring. At the moment the only restrictions on what I write are basically that I don’t let slip where I live or the names of people I mention, and I don’t say anything about other people that they might not want to read up here, if I think there’s any chance they will read this blog, and if I genuinely care about their opinion and don’t want to hurt them. No strict rules as such, just basic tact and the vague hope of remaining reasonably anonymous. But if I were to try drugs or get hideously drunk or take up smoking again or otherwise go in for a bit of good old old-fashioned teenage rebellion (I’ve only got about seven weeks to do the teenage rebellion thing before I stop being a teenager, so watch this space…!) and I felt it was blogworthy, I’d put it up here. Meanwhile I wouldn’t want my father to read all the grisly details of the stupid things I do merely because there are certain things you don’t want to imagine your daughter doing, which is fair enough.
The thing is, though, thinking about it, this blog is pretty parent-safe, in fact it’s pretty safe for pretty much anyone to read apart from my tendency to swear unnecessarily, so why this has got me in a bit of a pickle I honestly don’t know. Perhaps this is just one of those days where everything’s a bit of a pickle. My body has taken me entirely by surprise (feel free to guess, I merely promise that I am neither ill nor pregnant); my room is out to confuse, upset and murder me, and possibly drive me to tears along the way; I am jobless and being messed about no end by the people who were going to employ me (a screw-up for which I blame my previous employers, and probably the subject of a later rant); I’ve spent the last goodness-knows-how-long trying to organise my friends into picking dates for our group holiday which mean that I can also go on holiday with my parents and that’s been driving me slowly mad but seems to finally have worked itself out, although there are a number of people to whom the less charitable half of me would like to do various incomprehensibly painful things; and I’ve been trying to organise various other social occasions and just wishing I could somehow invent some kind of social-organiser-type-intention-craft, such that I merely have to think, ‘it would be nice if on such a day, this set of people all spontaneously decided to show up in the same place for a few drinks and some food’, and lo and behold, abracadabra, there you go, none of this shilly-shallying and excuses and giving out directions for all and sundry and panicking about who can and cannot come and is this or that person going to feel awkward or get bored and so on; so yes, perhaps it’s just me, but life at the moment seems a bit chaotic, I can’t keep track of anyone and anything else, and yet somehow I’m the one that seems to have to do so.
Anyway, I know it’s only 4pm, but I would quite like a bit of a doze, so that is what I am going to do now.