It’s been ages, has it not been ages?
I guess by now everyone who used to read this blog has long given up and moved onto more interesting things with regular updates or SnapChat or whatever, which is nice, really. I like the idea of completely inconsequential wordbarf.
Not that it was in any way consequential before.
This is what happened when I started writing for a living, in the sense of receiving regular paychecks in exchange for words I’d put together for someone else: I lost any desire whatsoever to write anything else.
The same thing happened when I took a summer job with Burger King when I was between countries, that one summer in Madrid between high school and university.
I only worked there for a few weeks before moving on to a nicer job at the airport where I picked up the phone and answered stupid questions such as
“How long does it take to get to Paris by plane?” (two hours, lady) and “but if I travel in Business Class, how long does it take?” (a nanosecond less as you’ll be sitting in the front of the plane, lady, and yes this was a real question that someone called to ask and I had to answer),
and where I didn’t walk into the women’s toilet with a mop and a bucket only to find two trashy girls fingering themselves while facing each other from opposing stalls, which is a real thing that happened and I had to deal with – wait, where was I going with this?
Ah, yes. I didn’t go near a burger for months.
And so it is with writing. I have a collection of short stories I am meant to be translating for almost a year, on ice. A non-fiction thing with Ba, on ice. I have two other writty wordy things on ice. I have a lot of ice.
But now, I don’t know. I don’t know.
Maybe because I know nobody is reading. Nobody is there to expect or demand that a sentence perform or look this way or that or have a character limit.
But I’m here and it’s Saturday morning and H has left town to go see his parents and I’m having brunch by myself in the café across the street, and I could swear there’s a very crass middle aged corpsy woman from somewhere else having tea with a very obvious male prostitute.
And I felt like blogging about it.