My therapist says I should write thoughts down as they occur to me.

I don’t think he meant it quite like this, though.

Mmm, cuddle. Doh, he’s getting up. Shit, it’s late. Erm, have I already brushed my teeth? Oo-er, going senile. Groan, last weekend’s suitcase needs emptying before the cleaner gets here. Bah, why do we always leave this till Wednesdays? Bollocks, he’s left the wet laundry to hang up. Grr, that’s the next ten minutes gone. OK OK, fair division of labour. Yeah, but it still feels good to whinge. Ho hum, can’t be arsed with the paper. Well, just a look at the cartoons then. Christ, I’m shallow. Eyup, cleaner’s at the door. Harumph, that was a cheeky remark. What, does she think we’re alcoholics? Yikes, it’s late. Ugh, can’t be bothered to take the stairs. Boo, lift’s full. Sigh, how many more floors? Yeesh, getting on at Floor 9 to travel to Floor 10? Wow, lazy or what? Oops, there might be something wrong with his legs. Ouch, I feel a bit guilty. Now, quick surf before I log on? No, stop! Ah, go on then. Eek, someone coming. Quick, alt tab! Right, workity workity work. Woo, personal e-mail! Hooray, remembered my dental appointment. (God, remember last time? Oh, the embarrassment.) Good, there’s the taxi. Poo, stinks a bit in here. Blimey, that was a quick journey. Um, should I tip? Nah, what is this, London? Hee hee, what a squeaky voice that receptionist has. Goodness, they’re actually running to schedule. Hah, that must be a first. Yay, clean bill of health! Whoops, bus ahead of me. Aargh, I’d better run. Damn, he’s shut the doors. Erm, if I flash him a watery smile? Yes, result! Right, better send that nagging text to K. Huh, what does he mean by that? Phew, Pret A Manger haven’t run out of sushi. Hey, I was here first! Mmm, great John Peel feature in Word magazine. F**k, it’s really late. Look, I always take the stairs after lunch. So, I deserve to take the lift for once. Boy, this is a tedious piece of work. Ooh,new Scott Adams blog! Ta, BW! Eureka, just thought of something to blog about. Bugger, that took longer than expected. Aaaaaand, hit Publish.

Moral: beware of assigning “automatic writing” exercises to online diarists.
What’s that new buzzword? Tumblelog?

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