Monday, 11 February 2008

Full As A Goog

Oh dear. I realised too late that one might reasonably infer from my previous post that I believe I’m extraordinarily talented, and the only thing holding me back from fulfilling my potential as the most brilliant blogger ever are the requirements of mothering three small children.

Because I still haven’t completely overcome the self-conscious teenage certainty that all are beadily eyeing my every move and passing harsh judgement, I had commenced an exculpatory post in which I tried to explain that, had I communicative skills more articulate than those of a drunken illiterate mute, the implication I made should have been something more like, Gee, I have all these ideas for blog posts which seem hilarious as they swim around in my head. With a few hours and some peace and quiet, I may be able to finesse them into something adequately humorous, once the dents sustained during the laborious progress through my brain’s clumsy incoherent textifying centre are largely beaten out.

While deciding how to explain that what I meant was not that I’m a shooting star chafing at my cruel earthbound tethers, but that I just don’t have any time…I realised I just don’t have any time.

So in a nutshell, look kindly upon me, Dear Reader, and remember: I’m not full of myself, just full of crap.


jayjay said...

Aspire to being over-forty. You will then be invisible and that is very liberating..........

jan said...

Your communication skills and sense of humor are deliciousl

Lonie Polony said...

Hello jayjay - I thought 40 was the new 30? Or something.

Hello Jan - you make me sound like chocolate. I like chocolate.

hazelblackberry said...

See? It's okay. We got the joke.

It was a joke, wasn't it?

Lonie Polony said... I really am suffering from a concerning depletion in brain power, which I hope is only a temporary case of baby brain (although I think I'm still recovering from the first baby, so I shudder to think when, if ever, I may regain normal mental agility).

Consequently, I'm finding it very difficult to think of anything to say, let alone anything coherent, structured or interesting. The beauty of written communication is, you do not necessarily know how many hours I've cudgelled my brain to try and produce something to post, and I can skirt around the huge gaps in my comprehension which prevent me from getting what the hell everybody who is much more witty and on-the-ball than me, is talking about.

Except that I just let the cat out of the bag :\

Rita said...

Afraid it's gone for ever Lonie! I too kept assuming that post-kids it'd all miraculously be re-instated, and I'd be as clear a thinker (and writer) as I previously was. Nup!
And ever since they realised the the full impact sarcasm could have on their mum, they have used this weapon as a way to make you feel doubly stupid and slow-witted!

How many times have I thought of that brilliant response to one of my kids - three hours later!