Busy like a beaver.

Busy-ness is such a foul friend. You know how you can be busy doing something but not really busy doing something? Of course, it might look like that here, but I have naturally been scribbling away in my notebooks at various points, I just haven't had the time to write them up. Not that I need subbing, of course, being a consummately professional writer, but I do like to have a quick squizz over something I've knocked together and just make it even funnier.

Actually I always find it difficult editing something I've written at any given point in time (on the blog, that is - an article for a particular outlet really only exists for the moment it goes live and not before)  because a blog post is so of the moment, representing my thoughts and feelings at that stage of the day/week/month/life that may not be reflected at any other point in time. The only reference notes I have from that moment in time are sat in front of me, and I'm really quite bad at remembering the emotional context something was written in.

Isn't that a funny thing about memory? You can remember what, where, when and maybe why but the actual feelings are often lost in the morass of your mind. Feelings are more fleeting than we might perhaps imagine - remembering what you were feeling at a certain time might bring a flush of sympathy pains, but it never quite compares to the intensity of the moment. It's a human protection mechanism, I think, a sort of forgive-and-forget gene.

But I only stopped by to apologise for being busy and you distracted me, you wee scamps. Never fear, back to business as usual soon.