Monday, Monday

Maybe I should try blogging earlier in the evening. I don’t know what to type.

I have this strange compulsion to write at the moment. Not necessarily “write” with a pen or pencil. Typing will do. A compulsion to create with words. Hence the rush of blog entries, I guess. For the last couple of months I’ve been running at very nearly one a day.

Some of these have been mind-numbingly crap, I’ll hold my hands up to that one. others have been only a few lines. I think it’s a symptom, though. I think there’s something bubbling away just under the surface that’s only waiting a chance to get out. I don’t think these daily outpourings are serving to alleviate the pressure, it’s more like my trying to find a way to let it out. I don’t know.

It’s very late now. I’m going to draw a line under today before it seeps into tomorrow. I’ve founds parts of today quite difficult to cope with, so I’m hoping that Tuesday won’t turn it’s back on me.