seems life isn't all Inspector Morse & Midsomer Murders

A Twitter friend recommended I start a blog. Well, I have always considered myself a writer but seem to get by without actually writing anything down. Perhaps that why I like Twitter so much, Micro blogging maybe the extent of my writing capability but no, I know that not to be true. I have taken a writing class (or several if truth be told) and even attended a writing workshop in Tuscany. So I've done the writing to a deadline and performing in front of a (friendly) crowd. But right now, blogging seems the natural next step to the limits of 140 characters. My concentration or rather lack of it has been the only obvious victim of my Twitter addiction. Haven't read a book in months which doesn't feel right. I have a very long list of books that I have taken out from the library (yes, I love and use my library #savelibraries) but then haven't read. Returned them with my head hanging. But of course, they don't know or care if you've actually read them. There's no test at the till. I'm not a believer in the old adage life is too short because its not really but then I join the chorus of people lamenting the swift passing of yet another year and all of a sudden I'm in my mid thirties and I wonder how that happened.

But the real reason I am to start this blog is to record my attempts at finding true love or at the very least someone not too short to pass the time with. Actually that's not strictly true. I mustn't belittle this. But I need to go from zero to completeness in next to no time because I'm told my clock is ticking. And on those quiet mornings lying in bed, I can hear it racing away. But for now, its Saturday night and I'm tired from my busy day of ITV3 police dramas. So buononotte.