My hubby is better than me....grr...

Okay so it has been almost a year since I started this thing - spurred on by the facts that a) everyone is doing it b) I claim to be a writer c) I might actually say something that somebody somewhere would want to read. Ha ha.

I thought about 'my blog' from time to time, but never really felt inspired to write anything. (That's what being a professional copywriter does to you - kills your love of writing.) But as a 'writer' (the world'd best prograstinators) I never had time... I had to write that BMW copy, that training course, that play, that email, that shopping list... and don't get me started on weeding, descaling the kettle and defleaing the cat. (I used to have to defrost the fridge as well but modern technology is reducing the number of de's we need to do. De's to do. I like that.)

See... I'm even procrastinating now... I'm supposed to be telling the story of 'My husband does it better than me' and I'm being side tracked by more interesting stuff. Interesting to me, that is.

So, while I have written one and a half blogs this year (this one being the half - so far) my hubby has written three in one day. Three! (He can never do anything by halves. I bet when he was half-way through his second blog, his half was bigger than my half.)

Does this mean that I now need to write five today? But what about putting some more compost on top of the tomatoes? Sorting through that pile of paperwork? And putting away three weeks worth of washing lying in the spare room?

That's why men make such bloody good writers, inventors, caped crusaders. They don't get side-tracked. There is no dust on the telly. There is no message from Mum on the answer machine. The student funding application will take itself to the postbox. There's just the footie on telly, cider in the fridge, tobacco by the back door and a chance of a blow-job if he has a washes his willy before bed.

I promised myself, I write this without multi-tasking, editing, thinking about having to go the garden centre later and wondering if Heb had replied to my text about the barbecue.

Ah well. At least I tried.