Excuses, excuses

OK I know I said normal service would be resumed at the end of May. And it's now - ermm - July. Where did June go? I seem to have missed it somehow. Maybe its because I was waiting for 'flaming June' and all we've had is flaming awful weather. Or maybe I'm making flaming lame excuses. My brother is here at the moment having made his escape from Azerbaijan. He tells me not to worry. 'Hitler was prone to bouts of frantic energy followed by long bouts of inactivity,' he tells me. Oh great. Thanks. That makes me feel so much better.

Another excuse is that I have, for the past few weeks, been partaking in the world of work. Proper work I mean, not dicking about all day in front of a computer trying to write something marginally more interesting than my weekly shopping list and getting distracted by Facebook, Twitter and sorting out the last ten years of digital photographs that are all stuffed in a file marked 'My Pictures'. The sort of work where I have to get dressed and leave the house before the Today Programme has finished. The sort of work where I have to get dressed at all. Work that is useful. And more to the point, pays the rent.

Maybe it's because I'd got out of the habit. We humans are creatures of habit. Patterns of behaviour are imprinted on our neural pathways. I know this because Wikipedia says so, so it must be true. And habits can be broken in three weeks. I have no idea why 21 days are important but it apparently takes 21 days to form a habit and 21 days to break one. So there you have it. My 28 day trip around Ireland had blocked my neural pathway and prevented me writing my blog. Simple as that.

We all know the truth though don't we? It's not the weather, the work or the weakness of my neural pathways. I take no pride in this, but the truth must out. I failed to update this blog for two months because, quite simply, I couldn't be arsed.