A little bit of nothing, and not very much

Oh, the tyranny of the blank screen. I am waiting for an e-mail to come in so that I can reply to it, and am trying to do something productive with my time. Here's a list of things that writing this blog post is more productive than:

• Writing "sentences" like the previous one. Seriously - a preposition at the end of a sentence? And that's just the beginning of that sentence's problems.
• Taking the washing out of the washing machine and hanging it up to dry. Washing doesn't need to dry, anyway.
  
• Tidying the front room. I like it so full of stuff; it makes me feel safe.
• Designing a new cabinet for the kitchen, which would both give me an opportunity to practice my joinery skills and provide some extra storage. Who needs joinery skills? And what's wrong with keeping tins in plastic boxes on the kitchen table?
• Cleaning the utility room. Far too dark for that crap.
• Writing snarky e-mails to Daddy about how he should name his files something other than scan0001.bmp. Hang on - I'm multi-tasking and accomplishing this as well! I suggested scan0003.bmp as a viable alternative.
• Organ practice. It's not as though that improves my playing, anyway.
  
• Making a birthday present for Rose - she probably doesn't really want one anyway.
• Going to bed. I am not tired in the slightest. Ho hum.
  

So, as you can see, writing a blog post is clearly the way forward and could not, in any way, be described as procrastination. And, as the writing is superb, it is a treat just to be able to read it. I would never get myself a reputation as a person who writes about nothing from writing like this, would I? Hello? You still there?

Then, of course, comes the question - do I leave it as it is: a finely-crafted essaylet* about how useless this blog actually is,** or do I try to form an awkward segue (is that the right word? I don't think I've ever used it before) and try to introduce some actual content. My instinct tells me that the former is the way forward, so I only have myself to blame when this next bit doesn't work at all.

This evening's plan was to come home from work as soon as was reasonable, eat a quick dinner, and then spend a couple of hours at the Motherchurch practising on the organ. Unfortunately, I was short of dinner ideas and we ended up going for pork chops with mushrooms and creme fraiche. This takes an hour to bake; by the time I had finished eating it was nearly 10pm. Also, I'm tired, and practice has been arduous and unrewarding this week. I know that this means I need to try harder, but it makes it harder to try harder. I think that I shall be winging it this week. I bet it goes well, too, unlike my last lesson, before which I had a practice session in which I sounded something like an organist, and a lesson in which I sounded like an impostor from the days before I played the organ.

Well I have eaten plenty of food, at least. That can be my achievement for the evening: that, and annoying my parents. I have promised to cut out some specific pieces of wood for them, though; they should be pleased with the results, assuming I am suitably accurate. It will be good practice for my upcoming cabinet, though. I can make the mistakes on someone else's wood.*** My cabinet will then be perfect. Naturally.

Nope - I'm broken. It's pretty much all sarcasm from now on. I had better go and reply to that e-mail instead. I am sure this sarcasm will be very well-received.


*It's called poetic licence.

**And also about how ineffectual I tend to be.

***Only kidding - I don't make mistakes!****

****Gigglesnort.