… I haven’t had time to sit down and write, or to be honest had anything meaningful to say.
It is quite easy to just sit and type and the flurry of finger tapping hopefully will create something comprehensible to the author, and possibly with some degree of luck an unknown reader.
More likely however that such activity will just lead to some inconsequential meandering self-interest.
So the purpose of this short entry is to say how vain I was to write something (in draft, where it will remain for now) about my woes at the time. It was written on 20 December 2012, when I was rightly not feeling too good about my health. It was the little hypochondriac in me that was rearing its unwelcome head. I know not whether I am ill or not, but until I know for certain I should never have allowed my feelings to be so shallow, not when I know albeit via social media several people who have very real and serious health issues to deal with and do so with grace, humour and inspiration.
There that was it. I need to shut up and get real. Besides, I honestly don’t believe I am ill in the sense of needing urgent medical attention. I might not be right, but it’s the sort of ‘not-right’ that a quick appointment with my doctor should sort out.