Errrrrrrrrrgh! Not that. Pervert.
I am listening to the drunk, spoken word/beat poet stylings of Mr Tom Waits whilst staring out my window. It is an impossibly yellow hue on a sunny January day and (contrary to what you may now be thinking) I'm not actually a sixth form poet. Granted I couldn't actually spell the previous sentence without my automatic spell checker going nuts. Who cares? You wouldn't have known unless I admitted it. Now try to guess which word I struggled with. This is a little tactic I'm employing to make reading more fun - I'll tell you what it was at the end. See? - now you have something to look forward to.
Recently my spelling has gotten worse. I'm not sure how to combat this. And every time I type the word "the" I end up typing "th" and putting the "e" at the beginning of the next word. Every time. Its bloody infuriating but I can't stop doing it. (Nice child friendly curse back there). And No. I won't type slower. How can I excrete my consciousness out onto the page if I have to think about coordinating my motor skills too? Huh? Can't be done. By me anyway.
Anyhoo my life is coming together. Rather like a plan drawn up by th eA-team (see!).
I sleep better now I no longer work night shifts down the beer mine. Which means I can wake up easier. And I'm finding that waking up is generally useful. This won't affect you the reader in the least. But this blog is about feeding the self-obsessed side of my personality so I don't care. Me, me, me.
Real time news flash: I just saw someone drop what looked like an architect's plan out of a window four floors up from the building opposite mine. I'm going to see how long it takes her to fetch it.
If she fetches it.
Can you tell I'm bored? Brain the size of a planet you see. I bore easy.
(Long temporal event here)
She isn't going to bother.
It was 'impossibly'.
You had probably guessed right. It was the only sensible candidate because all the other words were quite short (I also would have accepted "stylings" as I had to add that to my dictionary).