Crikey, I’m like a young Mozart, overflowing with creative juices. My writing talent knows no bounds as I embark upon a second post and it’s still only Day 1. Where will this end? Will I slavishly blog my entire life? Wouldn’t that defeat the object of capturing life’s events in a blog, if the blog becomes life itself? Wooah that’s deep Andy, steady tiger it’s still day 1, we don’t want to scare the punters off.
Of course, what is really happening is what happens whenever I start anything. Throughout my life, I have begun things with such enthusiasm it defies belief. I love running, so I run from a standing start until my toes bleed and my shins splinter. Think Forrest Gump.
I stop drinking, I don’t cut back on drinking, I become tee-total, almost religious in my fervent belief that alcohol is the devil incarnate, even depriving myself of Beelzebub’s mildest temptations such as sherry trifle and liqueur chocolates.
I read, I love reading, so when I start a book the rest of my life is placed on hold as I lock myself away in toilets and bedrooms, feverishly reading in every spare second of every day. I stay awake all night reading, rendering myself incapable of anything the following day, except perhaps reading more. I carry my book everywhere in case I can grab 30 seconds to absorb a couple more paragraphs. And now I have a Kindle, with 3G, so I can download books from any corner of the world, 24x7x365.
I diet, I don’t just cut back, I devise revolutionary food regimes, research anthropological archives for hidden insights into caveman nutrition. I study the diets of tribes, as yet undiscovered in the heart of the Peruvian jungle, and I order foods from niche health food stores on the web. I clear the fridge to make way for the new van-load of foodstuffs that will be ‘next-day’ delivered to my door, and will undoubtedly change my life forever, allowing me to live to be 100 yrs old and to still be running marathons. I have even ducked out of dinner parties during a health phase, in case I am tempted to eat or drink something evil.
I discover a new band, one tune from the radio can have me hooked, one major-to-minor chord change and I’m spellbound. I Google the band, I download their entire back catalogue, buy their auto-biography, order a t-shirt from eBay and learn everything from where the band members grew up, how they formed the group, what they like to eat and where they go on holiday. I have even joined fan clubs. As a grown adult, ffs.
And now I start my own blog. Not content with establishing the profile for the blog, setting up the basics, I have to fill it. I see other blogs with hundreds of entries and I want one, I want my own and I want it NOW. I want to be instantly established. I want to resign from my job immediately, to travel to Nepal and write 24hrs a day from the top of a mountain. It would need to be a mountain with wi-fi, obviously as I chose the online format (see day 1 post 1). Samuel Pepys never suffered like this.
And it goes without saying that all of the above fads, crazes and hobbies almost always, nay, always, end in doom and disappointment. I end up in the GP surgery with chronic running injuries and am told I might never run again. I succumb to a drink of alcohol and the flood gates open, the red mist rises and I drink everything in sight, from red wine to lighter fuel, often into the wee hours.
I go on a business trip, and, forced to break from my diet, I eat like a frenzied, deranged truffle pig, munching my way through fried breakfasts, 3-course lunches and 5-course evening meals, invariably washed down with fine wines.
I get tired of reading, surely there is more to life than having your head stuck in a book? So I don’t read anything, not even a newspaper, or a bus ticket, nothing for months on end.
And on certain days I indulge in ALL my hobbies ALL at the same time. I watch Radiohead in concert (HD, surround sound) at 2am, whilst I guzzle red wine and eat a carb fuelled chickpea and wholegrain rice curry with an icepack on my leg to ease the pain and inflammation from my latest running injury, and in my hand is my Kindle where I shop for new books to read. And I do all this until I am sick or fall into a deep slumber.
You probably have the picture by now. I’m an all or nothing kind of person and so I fear greatly for this blog. After breathing life into it, giving it legs and a heartbeat, I wonder when the fog will descend, the weeds will begin to creep into the (soon to be) untended website and “Spinning Head” will start to decay, left rotting, throttled at such a tender young age, cast asunder, stranded and alone on the side of the road that marks my journey through life, just another one of my casualties, just another fad, just another silly craze.
I really should know better.