Monday 4th February, 2013

I need to write this. If you don't mix concrete, it sets. If you don't poke your brain into the occasional consciousness-spasm, it becomes one of the lesser organs (such as the kidney or back), and will never be conscious again.

It's hard going, though. I don't think I've been aware for much of the day, let alone alert. I certainly haven't been astute, or abuzz. People around me seem to be better at dealing with Mondays. There are wares, lerts, stutes and buzzes all over the office. They are the dragonflies to my swamp, the real gnomes to my plaster gnome, the sparkling water to my still. The Earth is teeming with life. But not on this chair.

I'm not thinking about anything. I'm not mulling. I'm not - and this is key - looking forward to anything. I can't even remember what it was like to do that. I'm not even looking forward to going home, because our new home isn't home yet. So I'm just killing time until... what? Until I'm arrested on suspicion of timeslaughter, I suppose.

Not timemurder. Timemurder requires some kind of planning or intent, and as I've already said, I'm not able to look forward to anything.

Yes, this opening has been a little bit downbeat. Luckily, I've been joined by a wisecracking Brooklynite hand-puppet!

She can't type of course. And won't have any bearing on my writing. But she's here. Not on my hand; that would hinder my typing. But she's lying there on the desk, for all you know. Think of the things she might be saying, or might be potentially saying. Think of the edgy dances she might be able to do when animated by a hand. It would really liven us up, wouldn't it? Her light - her neon backwards baseball cap - will shine a light on my darkness.

If she's real - and she is real - she can turn this whole thing around. It'll be wonderful. It won't matter how little consciousness I have, because I'll be using a hand-puppet. She'll say something, and I'll act surprised, even though our voices will have come from the same brain, which is no longer setting like concrete because of all the complaining and the puppet (which I think I mentioned earlier).

We know she's from Brooklyn. We know she's female, and we know she's a puppet. But what kind of being is she? An animal? Many hand-puppets are animals, from Kermit the Green Frog, to Sky TV's DJ Kat the cat.

Or is she a puppetised human form, like Judy? Or an abstract or "unexisting" organism, like Zig?

As she definitely exists and is on the desk, I can just look at her and tell you.

...

She's a witch.

What's her name? All puppets have name(s), except for... you know... that one with the matchbox hair? Him.

Does my puppet have a name? She must. But I can't discern her name just by looking at her. I need to ask her.

But she can't answer unless she's being hand-moved and surrogately voiced.

Unless she's wearing a name tag.

Oh, she is. She exists and is wearing a name tag. Her name is Lawrence.

Lawrence the Witch.

She's brightened up my mood and no mistake.

Good old Lawrence the Witch.

Discussing you was certainly an improvement on what I'd written before.

***

I COULD HAVE DONE A JOKE ABOUT RICHARD III. ISN'T THIS BETTER?

Pancake Day.

There. That's something to look forward to. I haven't tossed a pancake for a long time. It will be fun to do that. It's all about confidence. The only impediment to a successful pancake is fear. If you will it to spin, spin it it shall.

I'm going to mark Pancake Day on our calendar with a circle. Then I'll do a big red 'X' over each passing day leading up to it.

We don't have a calendar, though. We genuinely don't. And now it seems too late to buy one. It's not the wasted money that I have a problem with. A twelfth of the cost isn't that much really. It's just that they don't seem to be available anywhere. People don't tend to buy calendars in February, so shops don't tend to stock them.

eBay. That's the answer. I bet they have calendars from all of the previous human years. If I wanted a 1998 calendar, they'd have one.

Look. Here's one.

I'll be spoilt for choice for 2013 ones.


Look. Here's one.

The 2013 one is only, like, half the price of the 1998 one. Probably to compete with the internet. You can find all of the 2013 days online, for free. The calendar makers have had to cut costs and lower standards.

Back in 1998, the internet was at an embryonic stage. Most day information was only available as hard copy.

I'll purchase a calendar (not necessarily the Tranmere one - that was just an example to support my eBay-has-calendars argument), and circle Pancake Day, and do all of the things that I mentioned before.

It's a plan. I'm looking forward to something, and my brain is working well. That's what writing a blog can do for you.

You can be just like me if you write a blog. Start your own. Take a page out of my book, and you'll be happy and healthy and all zesty and nice.

This is going to be an excellent week for all of us.