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I go through phases every now and then of wanting to give up blogging. I write a load of rubbish really, and when I see some of the more profound blogs written I want to delete this blog of brain fart. But I had a realisation this weekend of how much of my life I have forgotten. There’s nothing like a gathering of friends and family to remind you of what you’ve forgotten. I remember writing on my old blog of a weekend I forgot (work your way around that sentence). Witness a conversation from Saturday:

– Me to Oldest Friend and Closest Uni Friend: Oldest Friend, this is Closest Uni Friend. Closest Uni Friend, this is Oldest Friend.
– Closest Uni Friend: Yes, we’ve met before. She stayed with us that weekend, remember?  We took her round London? Went to Covent Garden? Ate in our favourite Lebanese restaurant?

The sad thing is, a variation of that conversation has happened before:

– Me, upon visiting Oldest Friend and seeing soft toy on sofa: Aww, that is so cute!
– Oldest Friend: You bought that for me! Remember? When I visited you in London?
– Me: Oh. Right.

– Me, upon seeing name plaque on bedroom door: Oh, that’s lovely! Who did that for you?
– Oldest Friend: I got that in Covent Garden, you took me there!

One weekend gone.

Then I apparently taught my German class a song to remember cutlery. I know about that one but don’t remember it. Remember this when we went to Germany? No. Remember my flowery jeans? No.

There’s far more. I decided to write this post before I forgot a bunch of stuff I was told this weekend but I’ve forgotten it now! And this shows why I continue to blog even when I have very little to say. I have lots of thoughts but they’re scattered and in half sentences, my brain is busy and blank at the same time. So I can’t write profound blogposts, I can’t promise to be entertaining, but I don’t want to lose memories like that anymore because it makes me too sad. I know there were more revelations this weekend but I can’t remember what they were! I’ve tried writing private journals before but they never end well. I burned the last attempt.

So here I am, blogging about nothing. Right now I think a lot but of very little. I have difficulty sleeping because of whirring thoughts – I don’t sleep at all without a powerful antihistamine. Not complaining about that, at least I’ve found one that helps me feel drowsy. I am so tired that I’m trying to stop mentioning it now for fear of boring people, but I don’t sleep properly. I’ve dozed off on every train journey this week and yesterday felt so ill I thought I might throw up in a meeting. Tonight I nearly cried because hubby’s lamb stew with dumplings was just so beautiful.

I am not going to complain about being busy because my job is great! Stressful, yes. Needs mucho concentration, yes. Busy, yes. But great nonetheless and I just have to get through two more very full days before I can relaaaaaaaaaax this weekend. My first weekend of nothing. I’d like to knit, but my shoulder needs to stop playing up first. Any movement at all hurts. I’ve had tingling and numbness in the fingers of my left hand and pain in my right shoulder and forearm. Don’t do dissertations, kids. I already have a Ganglion cyst, am I to add two more RSIs to the list? Note to self: Book appointment with GP.

I hate ending blogposts like this. I should use blogging to learn stuff, impart newly learned wisdom or… something. Nope. Just want to record what little fluff goes round my head, both to relieve pressure in my brain and to remember! I can’t stop myself forgetting but I can leave myself a trail of breadcrumbs.