... or thereabouts. Even my references to lyrics are getting worse. But with was is commonly called summer of even summer holidays two weeks under way- despite it being neither summer or (for me) a holiday- the busy busy busy excuse is no longer applicable. Surely if I can manage an hour daily of checking and checking again for new e-mails, it shouldn't be that hard to write the occasional blogpost, should it?
It's not that I no longer want to write. But what to write about? The subjects that I was so fond of as a student or even in the early days of employment no longer hold any interest for me. Or when they do, I find them too childish or unimportant to even admit that I take an interest.
Is this what it is like: to grow up?
It's not that I no longer want to write. But what to write about? The subjects that I was so fond of as a student or even in the early days of employment no longer hold any interest for me. Or when they do, I find them too childish or unimportant to even admit that I take an interest.
Is this what it is like: to grow up?
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