Have you ever started a story and then somewhere in between realised that the topic you're covering is extremely boring? Or worse still, it is a commissioned piece because of some survey your employers have done and you find yourself writing something which is so dull that you struggle to put 500 words together? I mean, I'm not short on talk or writing, as you must have guessed by now, but sometimes you just have deal with people from the bottom of the barrel in the 'interesting' stakes. Your body tells you to stay up, but your brain wants to shut down or worse still, if you're like me, I whip out my mobile and update my Twitter - which usually says bored.
Not that I'm doing anything boring right now, actually as of right now, I am not working on any story per se, instead I'm trying to conceptualise a micro-site for our website. Something like stamping my footprint deep inside the digital world. Or generally some blah, whichever way you look at it. I'm also not the type to wish for excitement to happen, because I know everytime I crib that life has become a bit grey, a tear is made in the space-time continuum and something bites my posterior. That rarely has to do with work, it usually involves a long-lost someone calling you and then you decide to make a massive mistake without realising why you became long-lost in the first place.
But of course, in my case it could well be what is going to happen on Friday. A couple of my old school friends, the more enterprising lot of them anyway, have decided to organise a get-together on Friday. So far there are no strippers involved, but with this lot, I just have a bad feeling that shit will hit the fan, I will be responsible for some of the shit hitting the fan, and have a ruddy good time while doing it.
Note to self: Do not make fun of anyone's baldness! People can be very touchy at 30!