I'd love to write this to tell you all the exciting stuff I've been doing whilst not blogging, but sadly, I've been working. Lots.
And when I haven't been working, I've all this other stuff to do, non-blogworthy stuff, which you don't want to hear about. Like lying on the couch under my polar fleece blankie trying not to fall asleep while watching series two of Love My Way on DVD. Wedding stuff.** Paying bills. Organising my tax debt from the year when I earned no money, a weird matter that I haven't quite worked out, but I am sure the wise heads at the ATO will kindly help me should I entangle myself further in the web of complex PAYG rules I cannot seem to navigate.
I have also been a bit sick, in a low-level mild sore throat and coldsores kind of way, rather than a full-on snot and fever thing which at least would have given me an excuse to stay home and lie on the couch under the blankie and feel piteous, but instead I solidiered on despite having a cold sore the size of a small ocean liner on my lip*** and the kind of haggard pallour associated with Dickensian office clerks or funeral directors.
So here we are. I feel like I'm apologising to a friend I haven't called for a few weeks. Do you want to have coffee this weekend? Yum cha? How about a movie? I'm so sorry I haven't called. I've just been busy, you know. Yeah.
* If, by popular, you mean a request.
** Which I am not going to blog about, because it is boring. Oh so boring. Other people's wedding preparations are the dullest thing on earth. Do you really want to hear all about how we decided on our venue and which alcohol package we're choosing and the interminable squabbles about which family members are deserving of a $70 a head meal? No, I thought not.
*** I'm waiting for the Wonders of Modern Medicine to catch up with cold sores. We can fly a man to the moon but I still get a frickin' great pustule on my lip every time I so much as sniffle.