I took the plunge last week and decided to set up a Twitter account, as it seems to be the latest thing and from what I have seen and heard, an excellent way of generating more traffic to your blog. Despite the banality of my ramblings, I am surprised to see that I already have 3 followers. I guess to them, my ramblings aren't as banal as they seem.
It has been a strange day so far - in fact it has been a strange week, a strange year, and an even stranger lifetime ...
I always used to go a salon to get my hair cut, not these expensive glossy ones where they charge you an arm and a leg to walk through the door, but a plain and simple one, with no fuss and no spraying of gallons of chemicals. Lately though on the recommendation of a friend, I have been having my hair cut at home. It is well worth the extra money, as you don't have the stress and hassle of going into town and finding somewhere to park, even if you do have to hoover afterwards. Anyway, today was the day, and my appointment was at 10.45am.
Knowing that the hairdresser likes her clients to wash or at least dampen their hair on arrival, this meant that there was no point in showering. So, for the last couple of hours I have been slobbing around the house in my dressing gown, drinking tea, playing Farmville (a farming game on Facebook) and watching this weeks Ugly Betty.
Now I am showered and not quite dressed (I am still in the dressing gown) I am not sure what to do with the day. It is too close to lunch time to go out, and the crops that I planted will not be ready for another hour. I know what I should do - enter that competition from the National Trust and register for a group meeting with an agent that a friend from a writers forum has set up for forum members. I have half an hour until those crops are ready, so I should be able to get at least half of my entry complete - they only need a few hundred words .... On the other hand, I should really hoover up all that hair ...
It has been a strange day so far - in fact it has been a strange week, a strange year, and an even stranger lifetime ...
I always used to go a salon to get my hair cut, not these expensive glossy ones where they charge you an arm and a leg to walk through the door, but a plain and simple one, with no fuss and no spraying of gallons of chemicals. Lately though on the recommendation of a friend, I have been having my hair cut at home. It is well worth the extra money, as you don't have the stress and hassle of going into town and finding somewhere to park, even if you do have to hoover afterwards. Anyway, today was the day, and my appointment was at 10.45am.
Knowing that the hairdresser likes her clients to wash or at least dampen their hair on arrival, this meant that there was no point in showering. So, for the last couple of hours I have been slobbing around the house in my dressing gown, drinking tea, playing Farmville (a farming game on Facebook) and watching this weeks Ugly Betty.
Now I am showered and not quite dressed (I am still in the dressing gown) I am not sure what to do with the day. It is too close to lunch time to go out, and the crops that I planted will not be ready for another hour. I know what I should do - enter that competition from the National Trust and register for a group meeting with an agent that a friend from a writers forum has set up for forum members. I have half an hour until those crops are ready, so I should be able to get at least half of my entry complete - they only need a few hundred words .... On the other hand, I should really hoover up all that hair ...
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