Maybe it’s because I started up another blog (which I’ve now deleted); maybe it’s because I fill this blog with nothing but utter drivel; maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner that I love London taaaaaahhhhn. Whatever the reason, evidently my blog hates me. It’s decided, of its own accord, not to display a couple of recent posts. I don’t know why. Here’s the longer of the two posts. Perhaps you can tell me what my blog might have found so objectionable about it:
I’ve been in my new job for three months now, and I’ve somehow managed to keep my desk remarkably clear. Literally I mean. At my previous job I was drowning in bits of paper and books and CDs and papercips and probably body parts, but here, I can see desk. Quite a lot of desk, in fact. Which leads me to think that the clutter at my previous job was due more to the sheer weight of pointless paper-pushing admin and arse-covering critical path twattery that crashed down on me like a great big wave of fuck than any innate untidiness on my part. Although I am, still, innately untidy.
Granted, this isn’t the most searing insight I could’ve offered today, but I blog so infrequently at the moment you kind of have to take what you get.
Also, I might knock Move to the Country on the head. Really, I can’t be fucked with it. I’m in the country (sort of). That’s pretty much the extent of the joke, if it can even be called a joke. Move on.
