… and I’m feeling sorry for myself, and instead of sleeping off a Med-Lemon, I’m moping.
Feel free to jump to another blog instead of reading this codeine induced drivel.
I wish I was a writer. I fancied myself one once. My teachers thought I could be one when I was in high school. I realised later, that I may have been one of the better essay writers in my class, I’m not a writer. But I am a blogger, so I get to pretend sometimes. 😉
I wish I was a photographer. I had the idea that I could do it professionally, long ago. But I’m not. I’m a happy snapper with a fantastic camera that my darling husband gave to me because he knows I like to pretend.
I’m always a little jealous of the writers and photographers I know and admire.
I have a few things that I NEED to blog about, but I can’t because I don’t have the privacy or anonymity I need in order to do so… and because I don’t usually use language on my blog like the language I have bouncing around in my mental blog post drafts.
I will update with a proper blog post, but for now I’m going to go and wallow a little more.