Today finds me holed up at home, making worryingly regular visits to the downstairs bathroom. Let’s just say my insides seem to want to become my outsides. Not fun.
Given that I’m not the sort of person to wallow, despite feeling distinctly unwell this morning I still scraped myself out of bed a few minutes after 7, and woke the children before making their breakfasts and lunches. Apparently I didn’t make Miss 15’s breakfast early enough – which caused her to storm from the house without a word a few minutes later. I’m not entire sure how I made breakfast for them all without being spectacularly ill, but I did. Somehow.
After saying goodbye to the children, and searching the back garden for a foam football (don’t ask), I had a good idea. Why not combat the lurgy coursing through my body by carrying on “as per normal”, to try and persuade it to go away? Inbetween further trips to the bathroom I had a shower, a shave, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, got dressed, combed my hair again (I alwaysÂ make that mistake), made a coffee, put another load of clothes in the washing machine and dryer, and tidied the lounge and kitchen up.Â I still feel like crap.
I’m now sitting here in the junk room / study with some Spotify playlist or other bashing Ellie Goulding across the room while I sip the remains of the coffee. There is half a bottle of Lucozade in the fridge – I might have to go and retrieve it. For those not aware of Lucozade (I have no idea if you can buy it elsewhere in the world), it’s a fizzy glucose drink – we always used to get it when we were little if we were ever off school with the lurgy. I have memories of it coming in glass bottles with an orange film over them when I was little. You neverÂ see fizzy drinks in glass bottles any more, do you. Who remembers “Corona”, or “Cherryade” ? We used to take the empty bottles to a hatch at the local pub where you could exchange them for a few pence (which we would then spend immediately on snacks).
In other news I had a marketer for BlogLovin get in touch with me yesterday. A part of me says “why on earth would somebody go into business selling followers on social media”, but another part of me says “this is an easy way to cheat the numbers game”. The real truth (wait – there’s a fake truth?) is that I don’t really play the numbers games anywhere. When I deactivated my old Tumblr account I had over a thousand “followers”. Of course everybody knows that it’s all rubbish. I didn’t have a thousand people following me around – I had perhaps ten or fifteen people that ever bothered to hit the heart icon on my posts, and perhaps three people that ever sent me messages. Nobody sells engagement, and there’s a damn good reason for that – it has to be earned.
So what’s the best way to earn engagement on the interweb? Maybe by being yourself, and writing nonsensical blog posts like this, so that somebody might wander along and end up nodding their head if they get sucked into your inane thoughts. If you can make somebody nod their head, they might write a comment – and then you can write a reply, and before you know it you’ve made a friend.
My cup is always half full, isn’t it.