I remember this from last year. Just at the point when you begin to allow a tiny tiny kernel of hope to grow inside you that you might actually do this whole Janathon thing through, you realise you have run out of anything whatsoever to blog about.
I am someone who is happy writing. Usually. And unhappy jogging. Usually. But my creativity seems to have deserted me entirely again. This morning's run was consumed with worry: what do I write about my nth short outing along the canal in the half-light? how do I find new topics to amuse myself even let alone any poor soul who is driven by byways of the internet to read this blog so barren of ideas and originality? And the fact I have spent all evening procrastinating before pontificating shows my enthusiasm is as rich and expansive as my imagination.
Hmm. I know not the answer to these matters. Answers on a 21st C twitter-style postcard I suppose.
Still, that is nevertheless the problem solved for today. Jogged, logged and blogged. Time for bed and ... oh yes, it starts again oh so soon ... so til tomorrow dear reader!
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