A few reasons – firstly I fell asleep while watching the Croods earlier with the kids and any disruption to my sleep pattern is catastrophic; Lilly is currently in our bed sandwiched between Catherine and where I was until five minutes ago and lastly I watch a film that has made me take stock.

I only came in towards the end of the movie and to be honest its name doesn’t much. However, if you’re interested it was one where a guy, like his father, was able to go back in time and rearrange the past.

The premise of the film is in the message his dying father gives to him. He tells his son to go back in time everyday in order to notice and appreciate the small details without the stress of life keeping your head down.


What an wonderfully poignant notion. And that is what is really keeping me awake. 


Truthfully I worry I’m not spending enough time quality with my kids. Jesus, I frigging hate the phrase quality time. I just sounds like the beginning of an excuse. When I say ‘I worry’, what I really mean is I know I’m not doing enough of the right things. I know life gets in the way but that again is another limp excuse. Time to stop making excuses and get my arse in gear.


By definition, ask my brother as he knows me, I’m a selfish person when it comes to my time. I feel I’m owed time alone because of an often brutal childhood. One where I can honestly say I learnt nothing other than a work ethic from my parents. Well tough shit. That life’s long gone. I mean, you’d think at the age of almost forty one I’d have grown up by now. 


We all know deep down when we’re doing things we shouldn’t. We all lie to cover up our secrets. It’s like saying your waist is 30 when it’s 32, or your IQ is 134 when really it’s 132 (truth it just sounds better when I say 134) Why lie? Christ, I have a keen sense of person and I know when someone is lying or hiding something. 


If I continue to waste time what will do when Luke, my little Luke, moves out and no longer needs a cuddle and to tell me daft stuff? What when Lilly, the little sausage that she is, no longer fills the house with the sound of her singing? Life is too short and I can’t keep wasting it playing stupid fucking computer games or snaffling an extra ten minuets in bed of a morning. No, time to change a few things, I think.


Lastly, I’m not a writer, fuck, I’m not even an aspiring writer. Writers write and don’t find reasons to hide for fear they’ll embarrass themselves. Who gives a shit I’m dyslexic? Okay it annoys the hell out of me but, again, tough! Deal with it and stop dodging. I honestly feel, and this is no lie, my imagination is way to productive to waste hiding from criticism. 




**Mood interruption. I’m currently wearing One of Catherine’s dressing gowns (my Liverpool one is in the wash and my Jedi one’s sleeves are too baggy and catch on everything) and by the god it’s way too small and itches like fark!!