I find it hard to keep up momentum. As you can see, somebody hasn't really kept up to date with this blog. My personal blog has long since been forgotten. And I'm yawning as I write this.
After a short while, boredom gets hold of me. I move on to something else. At this point I'm a little concerned that this is about to happen with my flailing desire to become a journalist.
I used to play the guitar. That hobby has all but disappeared after deciding I had stopped improving. Sometimes the pub is even a source of boredom. Can you believe that?!
At uni I watched film after film. Now when I slap something on Netflicks, I often walk out of the room and find myself doing something else for a while. On return, I have completely lost the plot of the movie.
Larry David used to be my hero. Now in front of an episode of Curb, I occasionally get bored (although I'm certainly looking forward to the upcoming season). It's been a while since his last TV series, which leads me to believe that he, too, gets bored of what he is doing. Perhaps this is a problem for everyone. Does everyone get as bored as me?
This week at the Nursing Times has been a bit like that. I started by writing some news pieces for the website. At the beginning, it was incredibly exciting. My name was on the website under a byline on the first day!!
By the end of the week, after number 6 or 7 had been uploaded, that original enthusiasm had dissipated. It was the same when I tried to learn Turkish. I'm feeling something similar for shorthand too. I now look at those text books with some sort of disgust or contempt and almost immediately find other, more important things to be getting on with.
Someone offered me box tickets for the Spurs game on Sunday. Of course that took priority over the long list of tasks I need to do. I hate boxing. But when one of my friends suggested staying up for the big game on Saturday night, I couldn't refuse - how exciting!
That's what it is, isn't it? The thrill of something new. I'm hoping there will be a load of that in the future.
P.s. Rach - sorry this isn't for you because it's too much of a diary entry.
P.p.s. Anyone else- sorry about the "I" disease.