Why is it that just as you start to think you’re getting on top of things, and reluctantly begin to think the world isn’t quite so bad after all, the world will find a way to shit on you from a colossal height.

Today was a better day – I think mostly because I forced it to be.

I appear to have fallen off the internet bicycle again – and it’s not so much that I’m struggling to get back on it – it’s more that I’m not sure I really want to.

In the moments before waking up this morning I had the worst dream in quite some time – so bad that I can still remember it, 18 hours later.

I’ve always wanted a typewriter.

Many years ago I came across an article on the old Huffington Post website by Norah Ephron, and a passage within it became a personal call to arms throughout the decades that followed – a vindication that emptying my head into the keyboard is as valid as any marketing moron eschewing “how to write”, “what…

The headline in the email accused me of almost achieving time travel. And then I did.

I didn’t work today (neither did many others – the Friday and Monday on each side of Easter are bank holidays in the UK).

Work has finished for Easter.

The clock ticked past 1am a few minutes ago, and reminded me that I haven’t written in a few days.