I am a bad blogger.
There’s nothing dramatic about that. It’s a simple statement of fact.
Nor is there anything dramatic about the reason for my bad bloggery. I haven’t broken both arms or – as far as I know – lost the plot. I just have nothing to say.
I do realise that that’s no excuse in this modern age. Facebook and Twitter were created for those who have nothing to say and want to say it anyway. They are also bliss made manifest for those addicted to speaking before they think and heaven on a stick for armchair ambulance chasers.
But while being none of those things makes me antediluvian and plain bloody boring, I still can’t convince myself that anyone wants to know that it’s a sunny day in beautiful downtown SWR, that Emily and Lew have a new puppy, that Tom had grommets put in his ears today or that his dad (a journalist) leaves for Rio tomorrow to cover the Olympics.
See what I mean?