Nothing constructive to say, so I’m going to let it all spurt out in whatever order it sees fit. In the style of a man who isn’t quite sure what day it is. Or what time it is. Or what elegant variation is. Utterly wrong, because this is a blog entry in the purest sense, and I pretty much despise them. Why? Because now everyone’s a columnist, and I’ve only recently realised that even (perhaps especially) the columnists who get paid are peddling humdrum insignificances. We need more Auberon Waughs.

I’ve been on holiday. But I’m back now. I broke my skis. Apparently. Hopefully it will cost my insurance company some money. Turns out I can ski pretty well on broken equipment. Which is good or bad, on interpretation. I have photos, and they’ll be up soonish. Not that they are particularly entertaining. You know the drill, sun, snow, people on skis, yada.

I’ve given up smoking. Three days in, feels like about 1000. My brain is doing weird things to me. The accompanying picture shows the last cigarette, as smoked at Geneva Airport of the morning of 19 March 2006. I am currently undergoing complete cold turkey.

I’ve just finished reading a book called Mr. Commitment by a guy called Mike Gayle. It was ok. Except it made me think. Writing books is very easy. Nothing much happened, and what did happen was mostly obvious and trite. And yet it sold well. And I did enjoy it, I suppose, but I’ll only admit that grudgingly. I should at least start writing the treatment or sketches for my own germ one of these days. Or find the bit I wrote last year.

I smoked for around 11 years, on and off. I gave up for 6 months a few years ago, which worked quite well. For that 6 months.

I holidayed with 11 other adults, and two small babies, who belonged to some of the other adults. I now know more Tweenies songs than at any other time in my life.

And now I’m back at work. Not now in the right now sense, more in the tea-break’s over back on your heads kind of way. Before going away I committed the ultimate folly of Getting Things Done. (GTD is a system that ensures you have to do every task at least twice). I got things done, and since getting back to work, I’ve had to get them done again, but at least there are no monkeys on my back. Also, some things I did that I didn’t need to, but did just to be helpful, were, rather ineveitably, entirely ignored. Result: colleagues flapping for a week because they haven’t read my emails and therefore DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT IS HAPPENING. And who keep asking me the same question, even though the answer is always mu.

So, I need to write a book, and do it without ciggies. Which is hard, because right now I don’t want to smoke a cigarette, so much as just eat one. Sod the lighting bit - too slow. Plus too hot, and all those harmful bits, passive smoking etc. Eating the damn things has to be the way forward.

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