The Mystery Box contains a ringing phone: procrastination is calling!

I'm having some difficulty typing this because there is a cockatiel trying to snuggle into my thumbs, which is making is all a bit difficult. Also there are collies trying to lure me into patting them by putting their heads on my knee and looking soulful, which is frankly a bit melodramatic of them. It's pretty cute though. Just a heads up in case this post is full of typos.

I'm beginnning to think that this 'blog post every day' thing is not a very good idea, not because it's a chore to write (it's not: it doesn't take long, and as you can tell, it's not like there's what you'd call a lot of mental strain involved), but because it seems silly to insist on writing for its own sake without anything in particular that needs saying. I know that writers are always advising people to write all the time, write anything, just as... practice I guess? But in practice, it seems sort of self indulgent to suggest that you guys have nothing better to do than to read, every day, crap that I've written without any plan or anything much at all.

Like, you know how sometimes, you're talking to someone, and the phone rings in the middle of the conversation, and somehow it seems really urgent, like you really ought to answer it, even though you're already having a conversation, even though phone calls to say "oh, sorry, I was trying to call Anna and I've accidentally rung Angie! Ha, sorry for bothering you! How are you going, anyway?" happen much more commonly than phone calls to say "you have half an hour to do this urgent thing which is super important"? Even though the importance and quality of the conversation you're having is a known quantity, and the phone call could be anything, it's sort of like that thing in game shows where the host says to some sucker contestant "Do you want to take the $1000 and the car, or do you want to take.... The Mystery Box!?" and the studio audience is always like "Choose the Mystery Box!". This is sort of what I worry these blog posts might in some way imply. That the things I write at random (here represented by a ringing phone or a mysterious box containing either a slightly better car or a stale Scotch Finger biscuit) are in some way worth reading when you are presumably already engaged in leading meaningful lives (here represented by a conversation over coffee or a hatchback and a cheque) in which you do things of known value, like getting your work done, or spending quality time with your hypothetical kids, or reading the entire archive of ASofterWorld comics or whatever.

Does that make sense? Why suddenly saying "I will write every day and I expect you to read it, or at least consider doing so" might seem hugely self-indulgent?

That being said, I totally plan to keep doing it until the end of the month, because I may be a self-absorbed chatterbox, but damned if I'm not a stubborn one.